Boarding School of the Bad
by LadyWarlock218
Summary: Clary Fairchild is a good girl. When the party she threw resulted in a house being burned down, she is sent to a boarding school for the privileged troublemakers. There, she meets other bad boys and girls. Will the good girl stay good or will the temptation to be bad get the best of her? {AH}
1. Bad To School

Chapter 1: Bad To School

"Mom, please," Clary begged for the umpteenth time.

"Clary, you know I don't want to do this. This is hard for me too," Jocelyn said. "Sending my little girl to boarding school," She shook her head, like she couldn't believe her words.

"Then _don't_ send me," Clary said. "I _really_ don't want to go."

"Well, maybe you should've thought of that before burning down a model house!" Jocelyn exclaimed, exasperated. "You're lucky Mrs. Lewis didn't press charges." What she meant was _You're lucky your best friend, Simon Lewis, was your partner in crime and the model house was his mother's model house and she couldn't possibly sue her own son and his beloved best friend._

"It was an accident," Clary said.

"But the party wasn't," Jocelyn countered. "If you and Simon didn't throw a party there in the first place, there wouldn't be a fire and the house wouldn't be turned to ashes and I wouldn't have to leave my own gallery opening to see my daughter in handcuffs." The party was Simon's idea. He thought it was their one-way ticket to popularity before their junior year began. Oh, how that took a miserable turn.

"But Mom–"

"No, Clary! I don't want to hear anymore. We're already on our way," Jocelyn said quickly.

Even though Simon's mother–she was a realty developer–didn't press charges, there was still the arson and trespassing charges. Luckily, no one at the party was hurt, or they would've had to face a lawsuit too. Jocelyn had hired a lawyer for Clary and after Clary and Simon were cleared of penalty, they were required to see a child psychologist, to make sure they weren't unstable or potentially dangerous, who suggested they attend boarding school for discipline rectification.

Clary sagged into the passenger seat, hugging her arms around herself and dreading the life she will have. If kids at regular schools were already mean, she could only imagine what kids who were handpicked by adults who specialise in teen angst were capable of.

xxXxx

Jocelyn drove slowly as they entered the gates of Idris Boarding School, allowing Clary to take in the sight of her new school and home. The lawn was expansive and perfectly manicured and the buildings looked Victorian. There was a fountain in the middle of the circular driveway. This place was one thing Clary would never have described a boarding school for troublemakers. It was beautiful. That may have been because this wasn't just a regular boarding school–it was a boarding school for the privileged, for rule-breaking boys and girls who had six-figure trust funds.

They parked and got out of the car.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think this was a Lord's manor instead of child prison," Clary said.

"It's not a child prison, Clary. Don't be so dramatic," Jocelyn scolded. "It's one of the best boarding schools in the country. You'll get the best learning experience here."

They began unloading Clary's things from the trunk. One by one, Clary's suitcases were stacked next to the car.

When they were done, Jocelyn sighed sadly. "Do you want me to follow you inside?" she asked Clary.

Clary shook her head. "No, it's okay."

"Okay," her mother replied. Clary could see tears welling in her mother's eyes.

"Mom," Clary began.

Jocelyn hugged her before she could say anything else. Jocelyn didn't say anything, just held her for a long time.

She finally let go of Clary to look at her with glazed eyes.

Clary could feel herself starting to cry too. But she willed herself to continue steadily, "I'm really sorry, Mum. I know I disappointed you."

Jocelyn held Clary's face and stroked her cheeks with her thumb soothingly. "I'm not going to say it's okay. Because what you did was not okay, what you and Simon did. But I still love you. No matter what, you're still my daughter."

Now, Clary really cried.

After saying goodbye and giving her mother one final hug, Clary made her way to the front office.

xxXxx

Clary tried to follow the map the clerk gave her to find her dorm, which was at the west building. But somehow, ended up on the east building, the opposite side. Not even fifteen minutes being in this school, she was already lost. _Nice, Fairchild, _Clary thought to herself.

Just when she thought her luck couldn't get any worse, someone ran into her, sending them both tumbling to the ground.

"Ugh," Clary grumbled. "Can't you see where you're going?" she asked angrily, rubbing her shoulder.

"Sorry, sorry," the voice was male and it didn't sound very sorry.

A hand with slender fingers offered to help Clary up. Clary took it and stood. The face that greeted her had golden eyes and golden hair. Even his skin was golden, probably from spending time under the sun.

"I'm Jace Wayland," he introduced himself.

Clary was momentarily stunned by the gleaming boy in front of her. "Clary," she said when she snapped out of her reverie. "Clary Fairchild."

Jace stared at her face for a moment before stooping down to pick up her fallen things. He inspected Clary's class schedule.

"Um..,' Clary said.

"You're new here," he said. It wasn't a question. "This is the one place you should avoid."

Clary returned him a puzzled look.

"This is the east building, opposite the regular dorms. This is where Blackwell Hall is," he pointed to a building behind him. "That's where they keep kids who are really bad," he lowered his voice like he was telling a campfire horror story.

Clary swallowed. "Really bad?"

"Those who got into monumental trouble with the school rules last year," he explained.

"Oh," Clary eyed the building. Then looked back at Jace. "Are _you _in Blackwell Hall?"

"Yes." A grin was playing on his mouth. "Come on, I'll get you to your dorm."

"N-No. I can find my way," she said quickly. "Besides I have a map," she held the said map up to show him.

"And you successfully made it to your desired location," his every word dripped with sarcasm.

"Fine," Clary relented. She really needed to get to her dorm anyway, it was almost evening.

On their way, Jace pointed out all the school buildings. He was really very polite which made Clary wonder what was it that he did to earn him a spot in Blackwell Hall.

When they got to the west building, Jace placed Clary's things in front of the girls' dorm entrance. The boys' dorm was located further down the walkway which was where Simon was probably settling in at the moment. Clary very much wanted to see him but she would get in trouble if she so much as breathe on their door.

Clary didn't even realise until now that Jace had, in fact, carried all her things all the way here.

"Thank you so much," Clary said.

"You're welcome," he said. "See you in English tomorrow," he told her before jogging back to Blackwell Hall.

xxXxx

The door to room 108 sprang open before Clary's fingers reached the knob.

"You must be Clarissa Fairchild!" said the girl with dark hair, dark eyes and dark eyeliner, standing in the doorway. "I'm Isabelle Lightwood. But call me Izzy."

"Hi," Clary croaked, stunned by her enthusiasm. "You can call me Clary."

"Well don't just stand there! Come inside," she ushered Clary inside.

The room was spacious, it was much bigger than what Clary had in mind. And they had individual beds, two on one side and two on the opposite wall. Separating the two beds was a small nightstand and there was a desk on the other side of the bed for every bed. There were closets on the far wall.

"This is Maia Roberts," Izzy said pointing to a girl with curly dark hair sitting on the bed, who didn't even bother to look up at Clary. "And that's Aline," she gestured to a pretty Asian-looking girl. "Penhallow," Izzy continued. "Her Mom's the headmistress." Izzy widened her eyes. Aline rolled her eyes.

Clary put her things on the only unoccupied bed nearest to the door. Next to her bed was Izzy's. She began unpacking her things.

She noticed that her roommates didn't talk to each other much, which was odd, considering it was summer break and they should've have stories to trade. Clearly, they weren't friends.

When Clary finished organising her stuff, Izzy huffed, "Finally." and dragged Clary out of their room. They descended the stairs and went out the door.

A soft breeze greeted them.

"You have no idea how boring it is living with those two! It was like that for the whole year last year," Izzy complained. "My parents might need to send me to an asylum, eventually."

They began walking towards the back of the building. Clary could see a lake further ahead.

"So," Izzy said. "What are you in here for?" It sounded like a question a prison inmate would ask of another.

"I…uh," Clary was suddenly out of words.

Izzy laughed. "Don't sweat it. I already know."

"What? How?"

"I read your student file," Izzy answered breezily. Clary gaped at her, but Izzy continued seamlessly, "I have to know what kind of roommate I'm getting. And you didn't disappoint." She winked.

Clary shook her head. She didn't even want to know how Izzy got hold of her files.

"To make us even, I'll tell you about myself." Izzy cleared her throat. "My parents are politicians. I have two brothers, one of them goes here, by the way. He's my older brother, Alexander. Alec. But I miss Max. I wish he would start acting up and go here already. Anyway, I used to take things from the boutique in–"

"You mean shoplift," Clary said.

"Whatever," Izzy scoffed. "It got my parents' attention the first few times, but after that, they just sent their PA to get me at the police station. And they couldn't risk their reputation so here I am."

"What about Alec?"

"Fights. Like most of the boys here."

They stopped and Izzy said, "Lake Lyn." There were shrubs and wildflowers around the lake. Beyond the lake was a forest, dense with tall, dark trees. "That's Brocelind Forest."

After seeing the whole school compound, Clary realised everything was about to change. So far the people she's met had been nice but Clary knew that it was only a matter of time before that changed.

* * *

**And that's chapter one! More characters will be introduced in the next chapter. I'm just laying the groundwork here. ****I honestly don't know where I'm going with this. I had this idea of turning all the characters into rebels (don't think Jace is all sweet just yet). Opinions are welcome and**** review please! x**

**Disclaimer: All names belong to Cassandra Clare.**


	2. The Real Welcoming Committee

**First of all, thank you, thank you, for all the lovely reviews! I appreciate them all. **

**And you guys also had a couple of questions which I will now answer:**

**1\. Yes, Jace and Clary do become a couple in this story. But it's kind of a long process, so they probably wouldn't get together in the early chapters.**

**2\. No, Jace is not Izzy and Alec's brother here. But they are acquainted and that will be revealed in a future chapter.**

**That's it! Enjoy xx**

* * *

Chapter 2: The Real Welcoming Committee

Clary stepped into the dining hall, still adjusting her tie–she already hated these uniforms–, and stopped dead in her tracks. The dining hall could be a restaurant. Just like the rest of the school, it was old-fashioned and regal. There were long mahogany tables and hanging baskets filled with plants. Huge paintings were hung on the wall. Clary saw that almost every seat was already occupied.

She went to the food counter, where there was a place to order food from a staff and beside was a table where an assortment of breads and rolls were laid out. She leaned to grab a tray, but was stopped by a tall, blonde girl.

"Here," she said, smiling brightly and thrusting a tray full of food–yogurt, a fruit bowl and a glass of orange juice–at Clary.

Clary was skeptical but she didn't want to be rude, so she took the tray. "Uh, thanks."

Then, she heard someone calling her name. She turned and saw Izzy waving her over from a table. Clary went over.

She sat down next to Izzy. She saw the boy from yesterday, Jace, sitting at the other end of the table, talking enthusiastically to a few other boys who looked like jocks. But then again, everyone around here looked like jocks. He didn't seem to notice her.

"Clary, Alec," Izzy gestured to the boy sitting across from her. He shared the same hair colour with Izzy but he had striking blue eyes. "Alec, Clary."

Alec muttered a "Hey." around a mouthful of cereal. Clary smiled and began eating her breakfast.

A tall, Asian guy sat himself across from Clary. He had rumpled hair and no tray in his hands. He yawned and rested his forehead on the table.

"This could only mean one thing," Izzy said. He set his chin on the table to look at Izzy and grinned.

"New kid can drink but can't play," he said, sitting up. "Sucks to be him this morning. I'd be impressed if Simon could even make it out the bathroom stall today."

Clary's stomach clenched at the mention of Simon's name. "What?" she yelled.

He flinched. "Ah," he placed a palm to his ear.

"Where is he?" Clary panicked. "Is he okay?"

"Easy, Fire. It's just a hangover." He said and squinted at Clary, only now registering her presence. "I don't think we've met before. I'm Magnus Bane."

"Clary," Clary said. "Why did you call me that?" she asked, afraid she'll be known as the girl who set a house on fire for her whole existence here.

"Your hair is red hair," Magnus said. "I used to change my hair colour so many times that I forgot what colour it was too."

"They're naturally red," Clary said.

He shrugged and took a sip from Alec's glass of milk.

Clary couldn't help but feel terribly worried for Simon. She wanted to see him but it was only five minutes before her first class started and it probably wouldn't be wise to skip class already. And there was the problem that someone might catch her wandering the halls of the boys' dorm since she didn't even know which room Simon was in.

xxXxx

Clary went through her class schedule mentally. Precalculus, Chemistry, AP History, French, English Literature and Gym.

During precalculus, Clary's stomach started to feel weird. She assumed it was because she was nervous for her first day here. But then, she had the overwhelming need to use the bathroom. After asking to use the bathroom for what must be the third time and got denied by the teacher, her classmates gave her funny looks.

It carried on like that for the rest of her classes. Izzy was in French and she sat next to Clary. When Clary got back from her second bathroom trip during French, Izzy gave Clary the side eye.

"Are you okay?" she whispered.

"Yeah," Clary lied. Izzy saw right through that.

Clary payed her attention back to Mrs. Herondale who was droning on and on in French, but she really couldn't catch anything the teacher was saying because of the nagging in her stomach.

"Did anyone touch your food before you?" Izzy whispered again.

Izzy's words just sounded like white noise to Clary. "What?"

Izzy raised her voice a little, "Did anyone–"

"Miss Lightwood!" Mrs. Herondale called, giving her the evil eye, and proceeded to ask her a question about the French vocabulary.

As soon as French class was over, Clary rushed to the bathroom once again. When she exited, she saw Izzy and the blonde girl from the dining hall having a stand off. The blonde girl sneered at Clary before stalking off while Izzy glowered at her retreating figure.

"Who was that?" Clary asked.

"Camille Belcourt," Izzy said. "a.k.a. Queen Bitch." She sighed and looked at Clary. "Didn't your mother ever taught you not to accept food from strangers?"

Clary was baffled.

"She put laxative in your breakfast," Izzy told her.

Clary shut her eyes. _Of course, she did._

xxXxx

Izzy also had English Literature with Clary and she sat beside Clary in this class too. Clary saw Jace come in and he caught her eye. He was walking towards where she was sitting and Clary had this feeling that he was going to take the other seat next to her.

But suddenly, Clary heard someone else collapse onto the seat she mentally saved for Jace.

Clary turned, intending to glare at the culprit. "Simon," she gasped. She threw her arms around him and gave him a tight squeeze.

Simon coughed. "Good to see you too, Fairchild." He patted Clary's back weakly with one hand.

Clary released him. He had bags under his eyes and his skin was pale. Basically, he looked like Magnus did, only ten times worse. "How are you feeling?"

"Like someone is hammering my head and scooping my guts out," he said. "The initiation here is hell."

_Tell me about it_, Clary wanted to say, when their English teacher entered. He introduced himself as Mr. Starkweather and class started.

Somewhere during class, Clary introduced Izzy and Simon to each other. Izzy made a face and wasn't at all impressed which was reasonable, considering Simon wasn't exactly at his prime at the moment. And Clary doubted Simon had enough sober brain cells to be aware of how hot Izzy is.

xxXxx

After lunch, the most dreaded period came. Gym. Clary looked around and saw Aline and Maia.

The gym teacher blew her whistle. "Alright, ladies," she said. She pointed to one side of the court, "On this side, I want Seelie Queen, Lily and Maureen Brown." Then, she pointed to the opposite side, on the other side of the net, "On that side, Maia Roberts, Aline Penhallow and…" She scanned the crowd, then, pointed at Clary, "You. New girl, right?"

Clary nodded. "Clary."

"Alright, Clary." She blew her whistle again. "Let's play ball!"

Clary went to take her place. A redheaded girl from the opposing team served and the ball hit Clary right in the face.

"Oops, slipped," she said, smirking.

They continued with the game, with the redhead aiming for Clary every now and then, too many times and accompanied by too many sinister smirks to be unintentional.

By the time they were done, Clary was sweating and panting and feeling nauseous all over again. On her way to the girls' changing room, Aline matched her pace beside Clary.

"Seelie's preying on you," she said.

"I gathered that," Clary replied. "from the many bruises she so graciously gifted me."

"Careful, Clary," Aline said before stalking into a shower stall.

xxXxx

Clary collapsed on to her bed. They weren't allowed cell phones or laptops, so Clary decided to get started on her English reading assignment. Somewhere on the third page, she dozed off.

Clary heard the door slam shut and opened her eyes. It was dark and none of her roommates were in. She grabbed her alarm clock from the nightstand. _7:14_. It was dinner time. She sighed heavily. Camille's choice of condiment for her dinner would probably be poison. And Clary could only stomach so much. She decided she had absolutely exhausted her mental and physical capability for human interaction, so she went back to sleep.

* * *

**Sorry if this was kind of gross. And, yes, I made Maureen older. ****Btw, I don't have a fixed updating schedule. I just update whenever I get ideas, so I'll keep on surprising you guys. Any thoughts? Leave your review!**

**P.S.: That part in the gym was inspired from the girls' fight scene in _John Tucker Must Die _(love that movie!).**

**Disclaimer: All names belong to Cassandra Clare.**


	3. Try Tryout?

**So, some of you asked if I would: **

**-describe the school uniform (check)**

**-make Clary get revenge on the mean girls (oh, that was the plan all along. ;) stay tuned)**

* * *

Chapter 3: Try Tryout?

When Clary exited her dorm building, Simon was outside waiting for her under a tree. She gave him a smile.

"Good morning," he greeted.

"Morning," Clary said, shaking her head at Simon's crooked tie. She reached out to fix it for him. The school uniform colour was light brown, taupe. They had navy blue blazers–and vests, if one prefers–and striped yellow and red ties. The boys wore white button-up, long-sleeved shirts and long trousers which were taupe, while the girls wore white button-down, short sleeved shirts and taupe plaid skirts.

Simon laughed. "Thanks."

They walked to the dining hall together.

"How's the hangover?" Clary asked.

"Gone. Thank God," Simon answered. "They made me play cards and drink on the first night, said it was mandatory for every first floor occupants if we want to uphold our reputation as the 'superior' floor in the dormitory. Whatever that means."

Clary sighed warily.

At the dining hall, Simon joined Clary to sit with the Lightwoods and Magnus. Clary made sure to get her own food, unadulterated, this time.

"Hey," Magnus chirped. "Newbies. You made it through the first day alive," he gave them a thumbs up.

Clary sat with Izzy and Simon on either side of her.

"Rough first day, huh?" Izzy said to Clary.

"That's an understatement," Clary said.

"It'll die down once you're not so new anymore. Or if there's another new girl," Izzy said.

Clary wasn't appeased. She knew she was an easy target. Small, frail looking and unexperienced with bullies, added with the fact that her transgressors were leggy and conceited. She might as well have _Bully me_ written on her forehead.

Simon was openly staring at Izzy over Clary's head.

"Put your tongue back in your mouth," Clary whispered to Simon.

Simon blinked repeatedly. "What-I wasn't–," he stuttered, then, cleared his throat.

"Uh huh," Clary said, grinning.

xxXxx

Clary attended her classes and was graced with snickers and whispers from her classmates. Word about the laxative incident must've gotten around. Some even sent her notes that said things like _loser _and _dumbass_. Clary rolled her eyes. _Creative_. She ignored them as best as she could.

When it was time for French, Clary took her seat and saw Camille sitting in the second row from the front. Clary was further in the back of the class. She debated throwing a ball of paper at the back of her head, but thought that wouldn't be mature.

Before the bell dismissed them, Mrs. Herondale assigned them homework on writing some dialogues. Izzy exited the class while Clary was still packing her books. Camille sauntered over to her.

"Do my homework for me," she commanded, handing Clary the piece of paper for their assignment.

Clary gave a short laugh at the incredulity of her request. She thrusted the paper back at Camille, accidentally jabbing her in the chest with it. "Do it yourself."

Camille widened her eyes in disbelief, then, whipped her head to Mrs. Herondale who was still rubbing the blackboard at the front of the class. "Mrs. Herondale," she whined. "Clary's making me do her homework." She pulled a distressed face.

"Miss Fairchild," Mrs. Herondale began, undertaking a disapproving tone as she saw Clary's outstretched hand holding the paper.

Clary gaped. She couldn't take any more chastising for something she was wrongly accused. So she stormed out of the classroom before either Camille or Mrs. Herondale could say another word.

Clary crumpled the paper. Her hand hovered over the trash can. But suddenly, she retrieved her hand and smoothed out the page. She eyed the paper. _Sure, I'll do your homework for you_.

xxXxx

Clary walked into English class and saw that Jace sat way at the back of the class, directly behind her seat with a couple of rows between them. She can't help but wonder if he would've taken the seat next to her if Simon hadn't gotten there first. She shook her head to clear her mind of those thoughts. They didn't even know each other.

When Clary took her seat, Izzy asked Clary what took her so long and whether Camille messed with her again.

"Nothing I can't handle," Clary replied, smiling at Izzy to reassure her.

When she got out of English, someone bumped her in the hallway, sending her papers flying. Clary grumbled and kneeled to collect her papers. But someone was already way ahead of her, picking them up in record time. Clary stood back up.

"Here," Jace offered her her stack of papers.

"Oh," Clary breathed. "Thanks."

He laughed. "We keep meeting like this."

"I know," she said, not knowing what else to say.

"We should change that," he said. Clary stared at him. "There's a football game Friday night, it's against the Circle Academy," he told her. "I'm playing. It's a home game, you should come."

Clary said, "Maybe I will."

He grinned. "Great, see you then."

During gym, it was a replay of the events that happened yesterday–volleyball was fast becoming dodgeball for Clary. Only, today Clary managed to make progress by dodging one hit from Seelie which she was proud about because from what she gathered, Seelie had excellent aim. She told Aline that.

"She's in the archery club," Aline said, while they were cooling off.

"Well, that explains it," Clary said.

"I do gymnastics," she told Clary. "And Maia's into some kind of martial arts," she shrugged.

xxXxx

Dinner was different from the breakfast affairs. A longer table was placed beside the ordering counter, where there were buns, salads, a variety of salad dressings, fruits and chocolate covered strawberries. The lack of choice for dessert was disappointing to Clary. They must not want the already restless students to get sugar high. There weren't any vending machines in this school, either.

At their table, "… His time is 1:42. I could beat that, right?" Magnus was asking Alec.

Izzy spoke, "If you practice 4 hours a day, do a juice cleanse, adopt a paleo diet and ask for forgiveness for your sins, all while staying sober. Then sure, you can make it probably 1:41, 1:40."

"Izzy, sweetie," Magnus drawled with faux patience. "Can you let the adults talk here?" Then he grinned, like he just remembered something funny. "I heard someone is about to get her crown stolen. Everyone's been talking about how beautifully Camille dived at the last meet and that she will definitely make the varsity team. You might have competition, princess."

"Well, _I _get better throughout the season," Izzy announced. "And you better stop trying to get me to burst a blood vessel or I'll get my brother to kick your ass out of the swim team."

Magnus placed his fingertips to his throat and feigned a shocked expression. "Alec would never do that. He has credibility as team captain," he said. "Besides, he loves me too much."

"He would if I ask him to. And," Izzy countered. "he loves me more."

"But he wouldn't–,"

"Okay, that's enough," Alec said. "Izzy, talk to your friends for a sec."

Izzy stuck her tongue out at Magnus. Magnus snorted. And he and Alec went back to their discussion.

"Is everyone an athlete around here?" Clary asked, disbelieving.

"Not everyone," Izzy answered, plucking a piece of french fry from Clary's plate. "But most. Troublemakers are essentially adrenaline junkies. And since school rules are so strict here, we need to get our fix somewhere."

"Huh." Then Clary realised something. "Hey, how come you don't have gym?"

Izzy smiled. "Perks of being in the dive and swim team. We practice in the pool gym when others have gym class."

"So you don't have to go for gym if you're a swimmer?" Clary asked.

"Exactly."

Clary processed this. If she joined the swim team, she wouldn't have to see Seelie's smug face again. "Then, I'd like to join."

Izzy raised her eyebrows. "Seriously?"

"Yes."

"Well, have you swam before?" Izzy inquired.

"Of course. I used to spend the whole summer at the pool in the country club when I was fifteen," Clary said. She turned to look at Simon. "Oh, and Simon came too sometimes. He was my guest. Do you remember?" she asked him.

"Oh, yeah, that was fun," Simon said.

"Maybe you could try out for the swim team too, Simon," Clary suggested.

"Nah," he said.

"Oh, come on. Why not?"

"I kind of already have something else in mind," he told her.

Clary's eyebrows knitted together and she frowned. "Like what?"

"I'm gonna tryout for the football team."

"The football team," Clary repeated monotonically.

"Yeah. This guy asked if I wanted to join," Simon said. "He said I have potential."

"Mmm."

"What, Fairchild?"

"Nothing. Just nothing," she said, trying not to smile. When Simon stared her down, she said, "It's just, that's so un-Simon." He raised his eyebrows in question. "You know what I mean. You're an indoor type of guy. Like swimming. They have indoor pool." Clary waggled her eyebrows.

He laughed. "Are you scared to tryout alone?"

_Yes_. "_No_," she said. Simon grinned. "Whatever, Simon." And Clary went back to her food.

"Clary," Izzy called, stabbing her broccoli. "If you're really interested, tryout is next week."

"Okay…" Clary said, unsure.

"Do you know the basic moves?" Izzy asked. "Backstroke? Breast stroke?"

"Um..," Clary said.

"Okay," Izzy said. She must have expected an answer like that. "Meet me at the pool after school on Friday."

Friday, which reminds Clary. She nodded and said, "You know the football game against the Circle Academy this Friday?"

"Yeah?"

"Let's go," Clary invited.

"Go where?" Izzy asked, chewing her food.

"To the football game," Clary said.

Izzy looked up from her food to look at Clary. "You wanna go to a football game?"

"Yeah."

"Why?" she asked. "Do you like football?"

"No..," Clary trailed. _But I like Jace_. "But Simon is trying out," she grabbed Simon's arm. "So, he wanted to see a game first."

"Uh…" Simon looked at Clary, then, at Isabelle. Then, nodded, "Yeah."

"O-kay," Izzy said. "I guess we're going to a football game."

* * *

**Whew, this one's got one too many dialogues. Tell me what you think!**

**Disclaimer: All names belong to Cassandra Clare.**


	4. Shut Up and Dive

**Heyy guys! So, after spamming you with three chapters, I thought I'd take it slow now. That, and also I had to figure out what happens next. Haha. I wasn't lying when I said I didn't have a plot. I'm just making things up as I go. Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter! **

***swearing alert***

* * *

Chapter 4: Shut Up and Dive

"Okay, class," Mrs. Herondale began. "I have here an example from Miss Belcourt that I think you could learn something from."

Mrs. Herondale had given them something French to read while she marked their homework from the day before and now that she was done she called the class to attention once again–she was efficient like that.

Camille sat up straighter at the mention of her name, beaming at the teacher.

"In your dialogue, Camille, a person orders 'Connard à l'Orange' in a restaurant, which means…" Mrs. Herondale trailed, searching for the appropriate word.

"Roasted asshole," someone continued for her. And the class howled with laughter.

"Roasted shithead," another person suggested.

"Roasted motherf–"

"You say the F word, Mr. Velasquez, and I'll have you sent to the headmistress' office faster than you can take your next breath." Mrs. Herondale threatened. That shut them up. She cleared her throat. "I think what Miss Belcourt meant to say here is '_Canard _à l'Orange' which is a classic French dish." She looked at Camille–who was turning a dangerous shade of red and none too happy being in the spotlight for the wrong reasons–, then looked at the class. "For your information, it is a roasted duck dish served with an orange sauce. I hope this mistake will not be repeated in my class." She eyed her still amused students over her glasses, then, the bell rang.

On her way out the door, Clary walked past Camille's desk and flashed her the most devious grin she could muster. Camille glared at her with enough acid to kill an entire sea worth of fishes.

Izzy, not missing a thing, asked Clary when they were out of class, "Was that you?"

Clary said nothing and smiled.

Izzy giggled and hip bumped her. "One point for the new girl."

xxXxx

When Clary went to put away her tray after lunch, someone grabbed her tightly by the arm and pulled her to a secluded corner.

"You thought that was funny, _Clary_?" Camille sneered, narrowing her eyes at Clary. Clary wouldn't be surprised if she suddenly grew fangs.

"I'm not really one to toot their own horn," Clary replied.

Camille managed to look even more furious, as impossible as it sounds. "I'll get you back for that."

Clary had no doubt in Camille's threats. "Bring it on," she said.

xxXxx

It was finally Friday. As promised, Clary went to meet Izzy at the pool when classes finished. It was empty of other students. She was wearing a black one-piece swimsuit and had her hair piled up in a bun. Izzy was wearing a dark blue one-piece swimsuit that had the words _IBS _printed in white across the chest.

"First things first," Izzy said, walking to the side of the pool and sitting down with her legs in the water up to her shins. "You need to know the four swim strokes. Backstroke, breast stroke, butterfly and freestyle." She ticked them off one by one on her fingers.

Clary sat down next to Izzy.

"For swim sets, we do 25's, 50's, 75's,100's, things like that. You are required to compete. Everybody races and tries to beat their own times." Izzy grinned. "It's really fun." She continued, "One lap is 50 metres. So, that's across," she pointed to the end of the pool. "And back." she pointed to the other end. She got up to her feet. "Alright, now let's swim."

When they were in the water, Izzy said, "Try swimming one lap."

Clary swam the entire length of the pool until she reached the wall, then, returned to where she started.

"Okay," Izzy said, swimming to the middle. "Try not to lift your arms out of the water too high during a stroke." She showed Clary. "And roll your body from side to side with each stroke, rather than just your head." Izzy showed Clary what she meant and Clary tried to imitate.

They swam the entire length of the pool with Izzy stopping and observing Clary every once in a while to check her posture. She placed her hand on Clary's shoulders, then, supported her stomach and feet with her hands to show her how she needed to stay in a horizontal position.

Izzy said, "Inhale when your body is rolled to the side and you have your face out of the water, then, exhale when your face is submerged."

Clary swam again and again.

When they reached the wall this time, Izzy taught Clary how to turn at the end of the lane. After watching a few times, Clary gave it a try.

Clary touched the wall and tucked her legs into her belly, rotating her body. Then, she placed both feet on the wall and gave a push as she reared her arms back, then, extended them again.

"Very nice," Izzy praised.

They swam a few more laps. Clary couldn't remember the last time her lungs had worked this hard. Or her muscles, for that matter. She only had the occasional morning runs with her Mom before.

Soon, they finally got out of the pool. Izzy handed Clary a towel.

"That was good, Clary," Izzy said. "You just need a few more practice and you'll be good to go."

"Thanks for teaching me, Izzy." Clary wiped her face with the towel.

"Sure thing. It was fun," Izzy said.

Izzy stretched and eyed the ladder to the diving board. She grinned at Clary, then, grabbed her wrist and sprinted towards it. "Wait," Clary said, trying to keep up with Izzy. She pushed Clary towards the ladder in front of her. "Climb," she ordered.

"Oh, no, no, no," Clary protested. "I'm trying out for the _swim_ team, not the _dive_ team," she enunciated slowly as if English wasn't Izzy's first language.

"Come on, Clary," Izzy insisted. "It's just for fun. The thrill of falling that high," she smiled brightly. She gave Clary another shove.

"Izzy," Clary pleaded.

"Clary," Izzy replied in the same tone, gripping Clary's shoulders.

Clary sighed and saw that it was a lost case, so she started climbing. When they reached the top, Clary looked down and regretted it immediately. "Oh my God, Izzy."

"Don't think. Just jump," Izzy advised.

"Izzy," Clary said again. Clary's palms began to sweat. "I can't-I can't do this."

Before Clary could process what was going on, she was off the diving board and flying through the air. Izzy had pushed her. The pool gym filled with Clary's high pitched scream.

Clary landed in the water with a huge splash. Somewhere between paddling to get to the surface and trying not to swallow gulps of chlorinated water, she heard Izzy's laughter drifting from above. Then, a splash nearby as Izzy dived. Clary resurfaced, breathing in and out rapidly. Izzy was smiling. Clary splashed her in the face.

"Hey!" Izzy squealed. She splashed Clary back. They both laughed as they continued to splash each other back and forth. "Okay, okay. Stop," Izzy forfeited. Clary gave her a satisfied grin. Izzy said, "It was fun though, right?"

"No," she lied. Izzy raised her perfectly shaped eyebrows. "Maybe a little," Clary said, shrugging.

"Wind in your hair, the feeling of weightlessness as you free fall, like time suddenly stopped or sped up," Izzy gushed, spinning around in the water.

Clary scoffed.

"I'm taking you cliff-diving next time," Izzy told her with a wink.

"Pass," Clary said, splashing Izzy once more.

xxXxx

Simon and Clary waited for Izzy near the gates. They were at the back gates near the football players' locker room. Clary caught glimpses of them, wearing blue jerseys with red accents and their numbers in white.

Izzy arrived and she wasn't alone. Alec was lazily trailing behind her.

"Alec's pulling the big brother act," Izzy grumbled.

"Hey, Alec," Simon and Clary greeted in unison, unintentionally.

This was the first time Clary had seen them out of school uniform. Izzy had a tank top on and jeans. She was wearing a bohemian silk wrap bracelet on one wrist. Alec was wearing a black T-shirt and black jeans. They were both wearing sneakers.

"Hey, Lightwood!" a voice boomed.

They all turned to see who it was. The guy was slender and had white-blonde hair and dark eyes, very dark eyes. When he came closer, Clary was sure they were black. He was wearing a jersey, so he's on the team.

"What do you want, Sebastian?" Izzy asked irritatedly. She looked like she could punch him right now.

He held up both arms. "What? I can't say hello?"

Izzy and Alec just stared at him. Or Izzy glared and Alec watched.

"Ouch," he touched the left region of his chest. "But, really," he said, grinning. "It warms my heart to see friends making up. You can't stay mad each other for too long." He sized Simon up and smiled at Clary.

"We didn't come for him," Izzy told him.

"Especially when they're the one who got them in trouble in the first place," he said, ignoring Izzy. He wasn't smiling now. He looked directly at Alec.

Alec stared back. His jaw twitched slightly.

"Sebastian, leave," Izzy said urgently.

This didn't sway him. In fact, it spurred him on even more. He moved closer to Alec, their faces hovering inches from each other. "You're a coward, Lightwood," he said in a low voice. "You let him take the blame."

Alec grabbed Sebastian by the collar and shoved him against the fence. "_You _let him take the blame," Alec seethed. "He wouldn't even get mixed up in that shit if it weren't for you!"

Sebastian barked out a laugh. "Well, if you didn't have to be such a spineless bas–"

"Sebastian!" He was cut off mid-sentence when Jace's voice sounded out of nowhere. Jace jogged towards the duo. "Alec," he breathed when he saw that Sebastian's opponent was Alec. He looked around at the small group of unlikely friends, looking slightly puzzled. His gaze lingered on Clary, then, flitted to Simon and back again. He returned his gaze to Alec. "Alec," he said again. "Let him go, man."

"Sure, Jace," Alec said slowly, releasing his grip on Sebastian's collar. "I'll let your _friend_ go." He gave Sebastian a long look before stalking out the gate.

Izzy followed her brother.

"Izzy, wait," Jace called after her.

Izzy whipped her head around and shot him a dirty look. Clary and Simon, not knowing what to do, followed Izzy. Clary gave Jace a small wave before leaving.

* * *

**Boom. ****God, the amount of googling for this. Btw, ****I don't think I can write longer chapters. Idk why, I just.. cannot. Sor-eee. Maybe one day? I'm still new to writing. ****Now, please leave your reviews! They really help a lot and keep me motivated to continue. xx**

**Disclaimer: All names belong to Cassandra Clare.**


	5. The Summer of Shenanigans

Chapter 5: The Summer of Shenanigans

Clary and Simon gave up looking for Izzy and Alec after mindlessly roaming around the still unfamiliar school compound for almost half an hour.

"What do we do now?" Simon asked. "Go back to the game?"

Clary sighed. "No, I don't feel like it anymore."

"O-kay," he said.

They were further away from the football field now and the sound of fans cheering was barely audible. They stayed silent for awhile, just taking in the uncanny but peaceful ambience of the school compound at night. Sure, Clary had a peek of the school in noir between dinner and curfew but only right now did the true beauty of it fully sink in. Clary began walking.

"Follow me," she told Simon.

"What-where are we going?" Simon asked.

They walked following the walkway, pass the dorms, then, further on. It got darker and darker, to a point where they actually needed a torchlight.

"Clary–" Simon said.

"Just trust me," she said.

After a few more feet of navigating in the darkness, they made it to Lake Lyn. The air felt cool and had a musky, woodsy smell.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Clary asked, watching the glinting of the water and the reflection of the moon on the surface.

"What am I looking at exactly?" Simon asked. "'Cause all I'm seeing is pitch black."

Clary tapped lightly on his glasses. "Is this thing working?"

Simon chuckled, fending her hands off. "Cool. A lake."

Clary rolled her eyes. "It's called Lake Lyn." Clary sat down on the slightly damp grass and looked up. She saw stars twinkling at her. Being a big city girl, she almost never saw stars. They were enchanting. She laid down and Simon joined her. They lied watching the sky.

xxXxx

Saturday morning, Clary's roommates and most other students were waiting for parents or chauffeurs to pick them up to go home for the weekend.

"Why aren't you going home again?" Izzy asked Clary. She was sitting on the edge of her bed. Clary was sitting on the edge of _her_ bed, facing Izzy.

"My mom's going out of the city to see an old friend." Clary said. Her mother had called the school office and left a message for her. "So no one's home. I would stay with Simon but considering what happened last summer, his mom thought it'd be a good idea to keep us apart for awhile," Clary said. "Or forever," she added somewhat jokingly.

Izzy nodded, pursing her lips together. Clary was about to ask about the night before–the almost fight, specifically–but Izzy spoke.

"So, how long have you and Simon been dating?"

Clary was baffled. "What? No," She shook her head and laughed a little. She didn't realise the impression they were giving. "We're not together. We're best friends, have been since we were mere toddlers. We grew up together and did everything together. We're like-we're like conjoined twins."

Izzy made a face. "Okay," she said. "Got it." Clary thought she looked relieved, happy almost.

Clary tried again, "So, last night–"

"Honestly, Clary, I don't even know." She collapsed onto her bed. "What I wouldn't give to know what had actually happened between the boys."

"So you're friends with Jace?" Clary asked.

"Friends?" Izzy sat up. "He's practically family. We're neighbours. We hang out all the time–well, until last summer." Izzy sighed sadly. "Wait," she said. "How did you know his name?"

"Well, he's.. in our English class, right?" Clary said, even though Jace's name was never even mentioned during English and he was practically a shadow at the back of the class. Clary asked, before Izzy caught on, "So, what happened? How did you guys stopped being friends?"

"Last year, Jace started hanging out with Sebastian a lot. He didn't completely ignore us, but, Sebastian's not a good guy." Clary wanted to say if anyone was good they wouldn't go to school here, but she didn't. Izzy continued, "So one night during summer, Alec got a call from Jace, inviting him to this party Sebastian was throwing. Naturally, Alec said yes. I couldn't go because I was babysitting Max." Izzy crossed her legs, leaning forward. "When Alec got home, he looked awful. He looked like he'd just seen a ghost. And there were bloodstains on his shirt but he wasn't cut or anything. He wasn't even hurt." She said, "He got rid of the shirt and made me promise not to tell our parents. And that was the end of it. He never wanted to talk about that night."

Clary was stunned. "What do you think happened?"

Izzy shrugged. "A fight, obviously." Izzy must be so used to her brother fighting a lot to be so blasé about the subject. So Clary tried to keep her cool as well.

"But you're not sure?" Clary asked.

"No, but what else could it be?"

xxXxx

After Izzy left, Clary had absolutely nothing to do. Her room was empty and it was eerily quiet. She thought of doing homework but saved it for later that night instead. So, she decided to get in some practice before tryouts.

The echo of the door slamming shut resonated throughout the pool gym. Clary draped her towel on a bench before climbing into the pool. She started swimming laps.

Not long after, Clary heard the door open. She sunk deeper in the water involuntarily. But, then, she saw the familiar blonde hair.

"Hey," he said.

"Hello," Clary greeted back.

Jace, apparently, was wearing swimming trunks and he jumped into the pool. Clary was startled. She swam a little further away.

He pushed his now wet hair back and looked at Clary. He said, "Don't stop on my account."

"Okay," Clary said even though she wasn't sure how she could concentrate on practicing now. But she ignored him and went on practicing nevertheless.

On her third lap, Clary stopped, resting her hands on the side of the pool, to catch her breath.

"Focus more on exhaling than inhaling," Jace said, beside her. Jace inhaled through his nose and exhaled longer through his mouth. Clary copied him.

When Clary was no longer panting, she turned around to continue swimming.

"For every three strokes, take one breath," he told her. Clary started to swim to try out his advice.

Clary swam lap after lap with Jace treading right by her side, offering tips along the way.

When she stopped near the wall this time, she said. "You seem to know a lot about swimming for a football player."

"That's because I was a swimmer before I was a football player," he said.

Clary raised her eyebrows. This was news.

"I was kicked out of the swim team last year." He leaned against the wall, resting his elbows on the side of the pool. "I was bored out of my mind. And then Sebastian got me into football." He turned to look at Clary. "But my one true love remains swimming."

"Sebastian as in Sebastian from last night?" Clary asked.

"Yeah." Jace blew out a breath. "Listen, last night.. That-that was just some leftover angst from last summer. You know, boys," he grinned. "No big deal." It was clear he didn't want to discuss it, so Clary didn't ask questions.

They were quiet for a moment. It wasn't an awkward silence, rather, a comfortable one. Clary leaned her head back against the wall and exhaled slowly. Seconds and minutes passed.

"Are you trying out?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Good," he said. And there was silence once again.

Clary turned her head to look at Jace. He was already staring at her.

"Why did you get kicked out?" she asked him.

"Hmm?" he said.

"Of the swim team."

He gave a short laugh, waving his hand. "That's a-whole-nother story," he said. "Let's save it for next time." He hoisted himself out of the pool and shook water from his hair. "Same time, same place, tomorrow?" he asked with a wink.

Clary didn't have a chance to reply before he walked away and out of the gym.

* * *

**I know this was rather short. But I hope you still enjoyed. Let me know your thoughts! **

**Disclaimer: All names belong to Cassandra Clare.**


	6. Deeply Missed Brother

Chapter 6: Deeply Missed Brother

During dinner, Clary sat alone. She was about to bite into her hamburger when someone plopped themselves into the seat across from her. Clary looked up to see Jace. He set his tray down and opened his mouth to say something.

But before he could get a word in, a group of boys joined them at the table. It looked like the whole football team. They were laughing and talking loudly. There was barely enough space for all of them at the table and Clary had to scoot to the edge of the bench. Jace turned to look at them and frowned.

The guy who sat next to Jace spoke, "Who's this?" He was grinning at Clary.

"This is Clary," another guy beside Clary answered. It was Sebastian.

"Clary, this is Jordan Kyle," Jace said to Clary, pointing at the guy beside him with his thumb. "Our QB."

"Nice to meet you, Clary," Jordan said, extending his hand. Clary took it and they shook hands. Jace had his gaze fixated on their joined hands. Jordan nudged Jace's shoulder with his, giving him a playful look.

Most of the other tables were empty, if not, only a couple of students at a table. And here they were, squeezing into one table with barely any elbow room. It was comical.

"Shame you didn't get to see the game last night, Clary," Sebastian said. "We beat the Circle Academy, 15-4. Their QB can't throw for shit."

"Coach Scott said that's not actually their QB. He's just filling in. Their real QB is really good. He's scored 6 touchdowns in a single game." Jordan told him.

Sebastian gave a low whistle. "I guess we'll see the next time we go against them."

And they went on talking about the game and offense and defense strategies.

xxXxx

Clary could feel hands shaking her awake.

"Clary," she heard a voice call softly.

She peeked one eye open. It was so early, the room was barely filled with morning light from the sun.

"Clary," the voice came again. Clary looked up to see her mother, rubbing her arm. "Wake up, sweetie."

Clary sat up. "Mom," she rasped. She blinked a few times, trying to ebb the sleep away. "What's going on?"

"It's your brother's birthday," she said. "I got back as soon as I could. I didn't want to miss it."

"Oh," Clary said, mentally slapping her forehead. She was hopeless at remembering birthdays without the help of her phone. "Right. Let me get ready."

Clary used the bathroom which was located at the end of the hall to freshen up. Her mother had left to give her some privacy when she got back to her room. She changed into a slip dress and a cardigan.

Outside, Clary and her mother walked towards the car together. When they reached the pool gym, Clary asked her to stop and asked if she had a piece of paper and a pen. Jocelyn produced them from her bag. Clary scribbled on the paper, then, walked up the small steps to the entrance and slipped it in between the door.

_Rain check? -C_

The drive took three hours and then some. They were silent the whole way. The hustle and bustle of the city greeted them as they drove through the thickening traffic of Manhattan. Soon, the honks and roars of cars subsided as they drove further on, where the sight of the familiar green landscape emerged before them.

The sun was shining brightly when Clary and her mother stepped out of the car. Jocelyn opened the back door and grabbed a bouquet of flowers. They followed the stone pathway. They passed several headstones before they found the one they'd come here for.

_In Loving Memory Of_

_Jonathan Christopher Fairchild_

_Born 21st September 1997_

_Died 21st September 1997_

_Deeply Missed Son_

Jocelyn placed the flowers against the small headstone of her son. He'd be only a year older than Clary now had he still be alive. Even though it might sound doubtful to miss someone you've never known or met, that was how Clary felt.

xxXxx

Monday morning came again. Clary was seated with the regulars at the table.

In the middle of banters over breakfast, Jace appeared and forced himself between Alec and Magnus. But Alec wouldn't move an inch and since Magnus was sitting at the end of the bench, he was close to falling off his seat.

"Alec! Alec!" he yelled, reaching behind Jace to push at Alec's shoulder. "Scoot, will you? I'm being overthrown here!"

Alec sighed and scooted. Jace properly sat himself in between the couple, smiling satisfiedly.

"What're you doing, Jace?" Alec asked annoyedly.

"You've already gained custody of Taki's and our friends," Jace said. "I say I get the table."

"You're the one who violated our friendship," Alec countered. "You don't get to have anything."

"What?" Jace asked incredulously. "That's absurd." He looked around, at the faces around the table. "Why is no one backing me up?"

"Well, if you guys would tell us what happened..," Izzy said. "Maybe then we could come up with a verdict."

Alec and Jace shared a look. "You know what? Fine," Alec said, getting up. "You want the table? You can have it." He walked away.

"Alec, wait–" Jace yelled after him. "I didn't mean you should leave!" But Alec ignored him and walked out of the dining hall. Jace ran a hand through his hair in a frustrated manner.

Izzy started to get up as well.

"Izzy, don't," Jace ordered.

Izzy shrugged and eyed Jace sympathetically. "He's my brother. I'm on his side by default." She turned to look at Clary. "You coming?"

Clary shook her head slightly.

Izzy widened her eyes. "What?" she exclaimed, disbelieving. She sat back down. "You-you two are friends now? When-how did this even happen?"

Clary shifted uneasily. "Well, we were both at the pool over the weekend and he sort of taught me some tricks and gave me some pointers and stuff and…" She let her sentence trail.

Izzy was gaping. She looked at Jace, then, at Clary. She looked back at Jace and narrowed her eyes at him, smiling cunningly. "Wanna know something, Clary?" she asked, still watching Jace. "Jace actually helped me get your student files." She redirected her gaze to Clary who was looking at her with wide eyes. "Yeah, and he took a peek at it too."

"He–" Clary stuttered. She asked Jace. "Is this true?"

Jace slightly shook his head at Izzy in disapproval. Since Clary was expecting him to say something, he rubbed at the back of his neck, trying to come up with an acceptable answer. He sighed and finally settled for, "Yes." Then, he started to explain, "But–"

Clary huffed and got up, not wanting to hear him out. Izzy followed her. They walked out the door and made their way to the main building where their classes are.

"Why did you ask Jace for help anyway?" Clary asked. "I thought you guys weren't talking since summer."

"We weren't," she said. "But Jace is good at being the distraction and I needed to get pass the clerk." she explained. "Don't tell Alec though," Izzy requested and Clary didn't mind obliging.

xxXxx

Upon exiting one of her classes, Clary saw Jace waiting at the door. She walked pass him and he followed.

"Clary," he called. Clary ignored him and stared straight ahead. She picked up her pace in attempt to leave him behind which was a futile effort since he had much longer legs. "Look, I didn't even know you when I helped Izzy get your files. So, you can't really be angry at me."

Clary was shocked. She whipped her head to look at him. "I'm angry because you never told me you read my files. All this time we spent together, it didn't cross your mind to tell me?"

"Well, I–" Jace was cut off when someone bumped into Clary.

"Ugh," Clary grumbled. She could understand if people bumped into her occasionally, but it happened almost on a daily basis. Clary knew she was small, but, really? They can't be that blind.

Jace grabbed the guy who bumped into Clary by the collar on the back of his neck just as he was walking away and spun him around to face him. "Hey, watch where you're going," Jace spat the words at him angrily.

The guy looked at him with a shocked expression, then, turned to Clary and muttered a "Sorry." before scurrying away.

Jace's angry face slowly changed back to normal as he returned his attention to Clary.

"Forget it, Jace," Clary said before he could say a word. She started to walk again.

Jace blocked her path, standing in front of her. "You still owe me one swim practice," he said.

"I don't owe you anything," Clary said to him.

He reached in his back pocket and held a piece of paper between two fingers. Clary read the script on it. It was the note she'd left him at the pool gym the day before. _He just carries it around with him?_

"I'm cashing this in," he said, waving the paper. He was looking at her expectantly.

With a heavy heart, Clary relented. "Fine."

* * *

**Not gonna lie, the increasing reviews, favs &amp; follows is making me a little nervous, but a whole lot happy. So, thank you so much for all your support! As you can probably guess, this story is going somewhere now. So, I'll be needing your honest reviews! xx**

**P.S.: Sorry if the football score sounded off. I don't know what I'm talking about.**

**Disclaimer: All names belong to Cassandra Clare.**


	7. Jonathan

**Over 10 reviews overnight. You guys rock.**

* * *

Chapter 7: Jonathan

As promised, Clary went to meet up with Jace at the pool straight after school. Jace was already there, pacing near the side of the pool. He looked up when Clary entered. She walked in his direction and gingerly climbed into the pool. Jace followed suit.

They did laps in silence. Neither one was willing to be the first to break the silence. Clary, actually, was rather enjoying herself. She'd played this game with Simon many times. Whenever they quarrelled, the silent treatment was her go-to move. Jace, however, was having a hard time. Every other time they stopped for a break, he'd have this look like he was going to say something only to replace it with a poker face as he change his mind.

After a whole hour, they finally got out of the pool. Clary draped a towel over her shoulders.

Jace sighed, defeated. "Okay, how about this?" he asked, hair still dripping wet. "I'll get my file for you."

Clary looked at him. "And what will this accomplish, exactly?"

"You get even with me, obviously," he said. "But, a fair warning, it's a very big file. I mean, like, _massive_." He widened his eyes for emphasis.

Clary was astounded. "What is it with you people and getting even?" She threw her hands up. "Why can't you just apologise like _normal_ people?" She opened her arms and made a sweep, indicating the majority even though there was no one else here.

"Oh," He looked taken aback. "Um, I'm sorry..," he said slowly. The word even sounded weird coming out of his mouth. It was certainly not on his most used words list.

Clary rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Jace."

"Does that mean I'm forgiven?"

"Sure, we can call it that," she said. "But I'll still take you up on your offer."

"You want me to steal my files for you?" he asked, amused.

"No, I've something else in mind," she told him. "I want you to personally tell me about yourself. We'll play 20 questions."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "20 questions?"

"Yes," she sat down on a cold bench and patted the space next to her. Jace sat. "Question number one," she cleared her throat. "What's your full name?"

"Jonathan Christopher Wayland."

Clary's heart seized, like it always does whenever she hears a name even remotely similar to her brother's. This one was an exact match–save the last name that is. She tried to look unaffected. "Okay..," she continued. "How many siblings do you have?"

"I'm an only child," he answered. "Although, on a good day, I'll admit Alec, Izzy and Max are my siblings. As of right now, not, with reasons you can guess."

"What's your favourite hobby?"

"Playing the piano," he said.

"You can play?" Clary gawked.

"Yes." He smiled. "You're down to 16 questions now."

She had to be more careful. "What's your favourite animal?"

"I don't have one. A least favourite though, I do have." He shivered slightly, as if the mere mental image of it pains him.

Clary was curious now. "What is it?"

"Ducks," he said, straight-faced, in all seriousness.

"Wow," Clary breathed. She needed a moment to let this new piece of information sink in. "But ducks are so cute. They waddle to you when you feed them bread crumbs."

"Yeah, and then they bite your hand off when you run out."

"You're being ridiculous."

"I am not," he said. "I'm telling you, they're not what they look like."

Clary shook her head. "Carrying on," she said. "Who's your biggest hero?"

"It used to be my dad, then, my mom died and he was just condescending and hardened."

"I'm sorry," she said. She wanted to tell him about her brother–people are usually comforted when they know they're not alone–, but wasn't sure if she could do it without shedding a tear or two.

"That's okay," he said. He looked thoughtful.

"Favourite ice cream flavour?" She tried steering the conversation to a more cheery ground.

"Good 'ol vanilla."

"Favourite song?"

"Sexy And I Know It." _Of course_.

"Favourite website?"

"You don't want to know."

"Favourite magazine?"

"Again, you don't want to know."

"Ew, Jace."

He shrugged. "You're talking to a seventeen year old boy," he said breezily. "I mean if you must know, it's League of Legends and Men's Health."

"Oh…"

He lifted an eyebrow. "Why? What did you think it was?"

Clary looked away, hoping her face wasn't red. "Favourite memory?"

"When I bathed in a tub of spaghetti as a child."

"What? No way," Clary exclaimed in surprise. "Really?"

"Yes. That was another two questions," he laughed. "You're quite bad at this game, Clary."

Clary ignored the comment and went on. "Have you ever been arrested?"

"Yes."

Clary nodded.

"Don't judge," Jace said. "I know for a fact that you have too."

"Yeah, thanks for the reminder."

He lifted one shoulder.

"If you were gay, who would be your celebrity boyfriend?"

He grinned. "Already having fantasies about me?"

She rolled her eyes. "Just answer the question."

"Christian Bale."

Clary hummed in approval.

"Star Wars or Star Trek?"

"Star Wars."

"Same," Clary said.

"We have _so_ much in common."

Clary laughed. "Car or subway?"

"Subway."

"There are so many interesting people on the subway."

"I know. Once, I had this drunk woman tell me all about the horrible night she's had," Jace said. "She even followed me when I got off, just so she can finish her story."

"Hmm..," she was running out of ideas. "Have you ever stolen anything?"

"Only hearts," he said. "And I mean that in the metaphorical sense." He fake yawned. "Come on, Clary. Ask me something scandalous."

"Biggest crush you've ever had?" This was bound to be juicy, Clary thought.

"I'm looking at her."

That totally backfired. She could feel the blush creeping to her cheeks. Clary laughed nervously. "You're the first to call me big."

Jace laughed too, deep and rumbling. They had somehow moved closer to each other and their knees were almost touching. She'd never had a boy be so blunt with her. Then, the door swung open loudly.

"Wayland!" Sebastian's voice boomed.

Surprised, Clary moved a few inches away from Jace.

"Football practice, remember?" Sebastian asked, his voice bounced off the walls. "You're already late. That's a hundred pushups."

Jace muttered something unintelligible under his breath. He stood up lazily. "Gotta go," he said to Clary as he jogged backwards towards Sebastian, leaving.

* * *

**This was pathetically short. I'm so sorry. I wanted to build a trust between Clary and Jace before he tells her about him and Alec. And I'm afraid that would be awhile. In case any of you get any ideas, Jace is NOT Clary's sister. We're not going through that scare again. And lastly, review please! xx**

**P.S.: 'Sexy And I Know It' is by LMFAO if you didn't already know.**

**Disclaimer: All names belong to Cassandra Clare.**


	8. Simon On The Spot

Chapter 8: Simon On The Spot

"You're up early for once," Izzy said when Clary went into the bathroom. Izzy was lathering cream cleanser on her face at the sink.

"I'm getting used to it," Clary replied, going into a toilet stall. "So, what do you do at tryouts?"

"You just swim, really. Be fast. But you don't have to be crazy fast though, don't worry. Our coach is all about improvements." The sound of water running was heard and there was a pause before Izzy spoke again. "And do a lot of freestyles too, impresses the coach."

"Got it," Clary said. The tryout was after school on Thursday. Clary didn't feel quite so nervous, at least not yet. Jace had actually been a great help.

After the girls were all dressed and ready, they went to the dining hall as per usual. When they reached the table, Alec was there talking–listening–to Jace with a very annoyed face.

"Shared custody," Jace said, opening his arms as if for a hug. "Okay?"

Alec looked bored. And he started to walk past Jace, but Jace was fast and blocked his path. They seemed to be communicating by exchanging facial expressions for a moment. Alec, then, said, "Fine. But this doesn't mean we're cool."

Jace furrowed his eyebrows, looking like he was going to protest, but thought better of it and simply said, "Yet."

Izzy looked at Clary and lifted one shoulder before she and Clary joined Alec to sit down. Shortly, Magnus joined them too, sitting next to Jace, so Jace was between Alec and Magnus like before.

"I see the narcissist is back," Magnus said, scooping his eggs.

"Hey," Jace said, pointing his fork at Magnus as a threat.

"Hm," Magnus said, glancing at the fork. "I'm peeing my pants."

They ate. And Clary wondered where Simon was.

"Won't your football friends miss you?" Izzy asked Jace.

"They're literally sitting at the next table joined to this one, Izzy," Jace said blatantly. "They won't be joining us, if thats what you're asking." He glanced around and said, "I don't think there's any space, anyway."

"Good," Izzy said. "And I was asking if _Sebastian_ was joining us," Izzy said again. "Since, you know, you guys are such _best friends_." She sneered the last words.

"God, Izzy," Jace said. He opened his mouth, then, shut it and said, "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Then, tell me," she whined.

"Not this again," Jace said, rolling his eyes.

Then, Alec said, "Izzy, will you drop it? It's none of your concern."

Izzy frowned and started to say something, then, was quickly cut by Magnus.

"Just eat your breakfast, Isabelle. We don't need more drama this morning," he said.

Izzy looked at him, knitting her eyebrows together. "You wanted to know as much as I do." Then, realisation seemed to dawn on her. "Unless, you already do know."

Alec quickly flicked his eyes at Magnus. Then, Izzy gasped. "He does know, doesn't he?" Izzy said, "I can't believe you, Alec. You told a boy before me."

"It's not like that," Magnus said. "Unlike you, I ask the right questions and I can read his face like an open book."

She looked at her brother, then, at Magnus. "I'll just get you drunk and have you tell me."

Magnus laughed. "Yeah? Well, tell me how that goes for you."

Izzy's face twisted in distaste, realising her plan won't do.

xxXxx

Simon had told Clary that he had football tryouts today when they were in English. So, Clary decided to go and watch him and show support. The seats were completely deserted of audience. She climbed some steps until she almost reached the middle. Deciding the view was good, she sat at one of the benches. She was also shaded from the sun.

There were football training equipments on the field. A number of agility dummies and a speed ladder were laid out and more to the middle of the field was a line-up marker.

A few minutes later, she saw Simon and Sebastian. Jace was trailing slowly behind them, as if he didn't really want to be there. They were all in sports wear–short-sleeved jerseys, shorts and cleats–with helmets in their arms. Sebastian was talking to Simon. He was making gestures with his hands–pointing and demonstrating and Simon was nodding as he went on.

After that, Simon was off running a lap. Meanwhile, Sebastian and Jace were talking–it almost seemed like they were arguing judging by the deepening frown on both their faces. And, Jace turned to leave but, then, more football players came to the field. Sebastian said something to them and they nodded. Jace stayed instead.

Suddenly, Clary saw a head of black hair climbing the steps to the seats. She called out, "Izzy!"

Izzy whirled her head in Clary's direction. Clary motioned for her to come over and she did. Clary looked at her expectantly but all she said was, "Hey."

"You here for Simon?" Clary asked, smiling suggestively.

"No," Izzy said, the pitch of her voice going a little too high. "I'm here for the other hot boys."

"Right," Clary said.

She diverted her gaze back to the field and saw that Simon was approaching the group of players at this point. All of them, including Simon, went for the equipments. They jumped over agility dummies while others were alternately stepping over the speed ladders in quick, narrow steps.

Sometime after, they moved on to the middle of the field. Simon ran back and forth as marked by the cones. The others were passing football to one another and running across the field. Someone was at the sidelines, timing them. After that, Simon was tackled by a player. That happened again and again. And at one point, Simon fell flat onto his back with brute force. Izzy stood up suddenly and Clary winced.

"When is this going to be over?" Clary asked after what felt like the tenth time Simon's body collided with the grassed ground.

"I don't know," Izzy muttered, eyes intent on Simon's weakening body.

"God, they're killing him," Clary breathed. Simon tripped and Clary looked away, at anything but his figure. Then, she realised something. "Where's the coach?"

Izzy didn't answer.

Clary saw Jordan come to the field. He looked at Simon, then, said something to someone. He called out names and a few guys approached. They were talking and suddenly, Jordan shouted, looking murderous.

"Something's wrong," Izzy said. She got up and descended the stairs. Clary followed her.

When they reached the field, Jordan was still shouting and all the players' attention was on him now.

When Clary and Izzy were nearer, Clary heard him say, "Sebastian! Jace! Come with me." And the three made their way out of there.

The rest of the team started to disperse to continue with training. Izzy grabbed one of them by the arm, stopping him.

"What's going on?" she asked.

He took off his helmet, revealing a sweaty face. He said, "Sebastian was pulling a prank on the new guy. He tricked him into thinking tryouts was today."

"Isn't it?" Izzy asked.

"No," he said. "It's on Thursday."

"Where's the _coach_?" Clary asked, frustrated.

"He's away. He left Jordan in charge," the guy answered.

"I cant believe they did this to Simon," Clary said.

"Yeah," Izzy said softly. Then, asked the guy again, "Where is he anyway?"

"In the locker room throwing up, probably," he said with a lopsided grin.

"Get out of here," Izzy said angrily.

He chuckled and jogged back to the field to continue practice.

Clary and Izzy walked to the locker room. Izzy had her hand on the door knob, ready to swing it open, but Clary stopped her.

"It's the boys' locker room," she said.

"So?" Izzy asked. "They're all on the field anyway."

"Simon isn't," Clary said.

Izzy blew out a breath. "Fine. We'll wait for him out here then." She leaned her back against the wall and they waited.

Clary was getting impatient. Right when she decided to just barge in, the door squeaked opened and Simon stepped out. He had, indeed, gotten cleaned up and changed.

"Simon!" Clary said. "Are you okay?" she asked, grabbing his arm.

Simon nodded. "It wasn't that bad," he said. "I'm more disappointed it was all for nothing."

"How could they all trick you like that?" Clary thought out loud.

"I don't think _all_ of them were in on the plan," Simon told her. "It was Sebastian who told me tryouts was today."

"Not Jace?" Clary couldn't help asking.

Simon met her eyes. He was thinking.

"Simon," Clary prodded.

"No, I guess not. He wasn't there when Sebastian told me," Simon said. "But, he was the one who told me to try out for football in the first place. Honestly, I don't know what to make of the guy."

Just then, Jace appeared from the locker room. Sebastian and a furious Jordan behind him. Jace stopped, while the two made their way to the field.

"Let's go," Clary said to Simon and started to leave.

"Clary, wait," Jace said.

They stopped. There was a heartbeat's silence before Izzy said, "I'll get Simon back to the dorm. You guys.. talk."

"See you later," Simon said to Clary. Then, he left with Izzy.

Clary waited for Jace to say something. He let out a laugh without humour. "I keep messing up things I don't want to mess up."

And Clary didn't want to make him feel any more guilty than he already was. He seemed to be capable of doing that on his own. So she said, "We'll talk tomorrow, Jace."

* * *

**So, yes, FluffyFluffLover, you are right. Special thanks to Amelia J. Puddle for swim team deets! You're awesome.**

**As I'm writing this, I have a stuffy nose and a light head. I'm sick, basically. So, review to make me feel better!**

**Disclaimer: All names belong to Cassandra Clare.**


	9. Silver Lining

**Aww, you're all angels! Thank you for the get well wishes. I'm better now, so thank you. xx**

* * *

Chapter 9: Silver Lining

Clary took her seat in English. Puling out her copy of Scarlett Letter, she noticed Jace come in. He stopped beside her and sat on the the desk next to Clary's.

He cleared his throat to get Clary's attention, even though he already had it.

Clary was about to tilt her head up to watch him, but she saw Mr. Starkweather walk in right at the moment. She half expected Jace to get up and go to his seat. But he didn't. So, Clary raised her eyebrows at him. He huffed and shuffled reluctantly towards the back of the class. Clary heard his steps stop short behind her. There was low murmuring, a pause, then, the rustling of things rubbing against each other, followed by the squeak of shoes that sounded like it was moving further away and a thump of weight settling on the seat behind Clary's. Clary mentally rolled her eyes, she had an idea what was going on.

Mr. Starkweather began class.

Clary felt a tap on her shoulder. And a note was thrusted at her, the fingers pinching the paper slender and elegant. Clary took it.

_Hey_

Clary glanced at the teacher, who was talking to the class enthusiastically and making odd hand gestures. Izzy and Simon, on either side of Clary, were watching him with blatant disinterest.

Clary intended to ignore the note, but she got an idea. She flipped the paper to the other side.

_Who is this?_

She passed it back.

A short wait before the reply came.

_I'm going to assume you have acute amnesia because it's very unlikely anyone could forget someone like me._

Clary turned in her seat and met gleaming golden eyes. She made a gagging gesture.

A corner of Jace's lips twitched.

A stretched out pause and Clary listened to Mr. Starkweather explain in great detail why Hester Prynne had to wear an 'A' on her clothing.

Then, Jace wrote.

_I'm sorry.._

Clary looked over her shoulder to see if Jace was joking. But his face said anything but. So, Clary replied.

_Please, Jace, that was only cute the first time._

She passed it back, handing the piece of paper over her shoulder. Belatedly, she thought of something else to say so she wrote another one.

_Tell Simon that._

_Wait, did you just call me cute? Have you seen my torso? Cute is for guinea pigs and Alec's temper tantrums._

Clary scoffed, even as she could quite easily recall his upper body.

A few moments later, a pencil flew through the air and collided with Simon's skull. Simon made a sound of discomfort and turned to look at the direction the pencil came from–Jace.

"That," Jace said in a low whisper.

Simon frowned. He directed his gaze to Clary–as if Clary bore the explanation to Jace's behaviour–with a deep crease between his eyebrows.

Clary did a face palm.

"What does that mean?" Simon asked.

Jace grinned, seeming quite satisfied with the rather lame joke. However, to be fair, in the middle of studying, even colour coordinating your socks could be entertaining.

"I said to apologise," Clary said to Jace annoyedly.

"Technically, you said–"

"You know what I mean," Clary said, frustrated.

"What are you guys talking about?" Simon chimed in.

"Jace is being weird,"

"We don't like your shirt,"

Clary and Jace said respectively at the same time.

Simon leaned closer to Jace. "You're wearing the exact same shirt."

"Yeah, well," Jace shrugged slowly. "I wear it better."

Simon's eyebrows were reaching for his hairline. He mouthed, _Wow_ to Clary.

"Apologise," Clary whisper-yelled to Jace.

Jace turned to Simon and dully said, "Sorry."

"Hmm," Simon hummed, tapping his pencil on his chin–pretending to consider the sorry excuse for an apology. "I don't know if I forgive you, Jace." He said, "My sore muscles are a constant reminder of the cruel joke. And not to mention my bleeding heart," Simon said meaningfully.

Jace made a face of incredulity. "What do you want me to do, Lewis?" he asked. "Send you a bouquet of flowers and an apology card?"

"Now that's an idea," Simon said brightly. "I've never gotten flowers before."

"You can't be serious," Jace said. "We've not built to that level of relationship, far from it actually."

"I'm not serious," Simon assured him.

Mr. Starkweather cleared his throat loudly. Effectively waking some of the dozed off students. Their heads perked up. "Are you two quite done?" he inquired. "Mr. Wayland? Mr. Lewis?" Mr. Starkweather wasn't the kind of teacher to drone on and on about a student's mishap like most other teachers do. He moved on quickly. When Simon nodded his head, he said, "Very well. Everyone," his gaze flitted over his other students. "Pay attention, now."

xxXxx

Clary climbed out of the pool, almost slipping as she went. Her heart was working double time. The other girls who tried out were bigger and had much more muscle definition than her petite self. They swam with immaculate style. She was betting on being fast.

As she took off her swimming cap, Clary eyed the swim team coach who was writing something on a paper attached to a clipboard. Clary had learned that day that the coach's name was Coach Malachi.

Then, came Alec. He approached the coach. Coach Malachi seemed to be explaining something to him, pointing at certain parts of the paper while Alec nodded as he talked. The coach then handed Alec the clipboard and gave him a pat on the back as he left.

Clary sat on a bench. The other students were hanging around, talking to each other while others stretched. She saw Alec approach her.

"Congratulations, Clary," Alec said. "You made the team."

Clary stood, the top of her head level to Alec's shoulders. "Really?" she squealed.

"Yeah," Alec smiled, breaking his common cool and serious conduct.

A shrill shriek broke the pause. And Alec blinked one eye shut, then, sighed softly. He must've recognised the owner of those vocal chords.

"Clary!" Izzy announced loudly next to Clary's ear. "I knew you could do it."

"See you around, Clary," Alec said before walking away and shooting a last glance at his excited sister.

Izzy swung an arm around Clary's still wet shoulders. "So," she began. "We should celebrate," she told her. "All of us are going out tonight."

Clary looked at her skeptically. "You mean 'sneaking out'."

Izzy waved her hand.

"No," Clary declined. "I can't get in trouble."

"So we won't get in trouble," Izzy said simply.

"No, I really don't–"

"Clary," Izzy whined. "You can't say no. You made the team, some form of celebration is called for." When Clary was still reluctant, Izzy said, "Jace is going."

"What? What does that have to do–"

Clary stopped mid-sentence as she saw Simon jogging towards them.

"Simon," she waved at him. When he reached them, she asked, "Guess what?"

"When people say that, they don't really want you to _actually_ make a guess," Simon thought out loud.

"Simon," Clary chided.

He laughed. "Okay, okay. What?" He grinned and Clary knew he knew she was going to tell him she made the team.

But she told him anyway, just because it felt good to say it out loud. "I made the team!"

"That's great, Clary!" he told her, smiling widely–he looked like he meant so much more than those simple words. He was proud of her. "Me too," he said.

Clary tilted her head to the side. "You.. made the swim team too?"

Simon laughed again. "No, silly." He said, "I made the football team."

Clary's eyes widened. Izzy squealed and hugged Simon suddenly, shocking him. He stumbled backwards a little.

"Whoa," he breathed. Simon looked both pleased and displeased. Then, he patted her back awkwardly.

Izzy pulled away, clearing her throat and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

And the two were looking anywhere but each other.

"So, um…" Clary said. "How?"

"Huh?" Simon asked.

"How did you make the team?" Clary asked with more clarification.

"Oh," Simon said. "Uh, when I tried out the other day, someone had timed me," he explained. "And Jordan asked around how I did too. He got positive feedback from a few of them. He told the coach that and kind of advised in favour of me. So, I'm in."

Clary nodded. So did Izzy. "That was nice of him," Clary said.

"On that note," Izzy said. "Simon, if you would be so nice as to persuade your stubborn best friend into joining us tonight."

"Clary. Come on," Simon gave her a meaningful look. "You go where I go and vice versa, remember?"

* * *

**I know you guys are eager to know what happened on 'the night of doom' as fizzletick calls it. But, please bear with me. The time will come. And remember, it's about the journey not the destination! Review review review!**

**Disclaimer: All names belong to Cassandra Clare.**


	10. Bad Boy Good Lips

**Okay, so, I'll be dropping a hint here. Pay attention to Alec.**

* * *

Chapter 10: Bad Boy Good Lips

"Clary," a voice whispered sharply; Izzy's. "Come on, let's go!"

There was rummaging sounds followed by the sound of something falling to the floor.

"What are you guys doing?" Aline's voice was heard, sounding thick with sleep.

"Shh," Izzy shushed. "Go back to sleep, Maia."

"It's Aline," Aline corrected annoyedly.

"Whatever," Izzy breathed, exhausted.

Izzy's hands were searching for Clary. And she accidentally punched her jaw.

"Ouch," Clary yelped in a hushed voice, attempting to be quiet.

"Ugh," Izzy grumbled. "Let's go," she stressed. "Why are you lying down?"

The tryouts that day had left Clary fatigued. She had properly exerted herself in the pool. She didn't think her nap would prolong itself until the sun went down. That's the thing about naps, you never know when you'll wake up; in an hour? In two hours? Ten hours? A year?

"I was napping," Clary said.

Izzy finally got hold of Clary's arm and she hauled her to her feet with ease.

"We need to go right now," Izzy said again.

She was manoeuvring Clary by her shoulders, leading her to the window. They stumbled over a few things and Clary almost tripped.

"We're going through the window?" Clary asked in bewilderment.

"Yes, Clary, I believe this square glass is called a window," Izzy said. "Now, hurry up."

"But we're on the first floor!"

"Yeah, good for you," Izzy muttered. "I don't think you'd make it if we were on the second floor."

Clary gaped at her, not that she could see it in this darkness. Clary creeped her head out the window slightly. She looked down and saw bushes being swallowed by the darkness. They looked like a painting powdered with charcoal. She tried to estimate the height of the drop to fully prepare her body. She felt her pulse quickening. Izzy prodding at her back was doing no good in helping her in the least.

Clary swung one leg, then, the other, over the windowsill. She held on to the ledge once both her feet were steady on concrete. Then, she jumped.

"Oof."

Opening her eyes, Clary met shining cat eyes and a playful grin. She was suspended in the arms of Magnus Bane. He set her down on the grass.

"I did not misjudge your weight," he said proudly. "You're as light as a biscuit."

There was a thump to announce Izzy's landing. She landed on her feet harmlessly, of course, and skipped over to where Clary and Magnus were standing.

"Um," Magnus drawled, eyeing Clary up and down. "I'm all for bedroom chic, but this.. This is…"

Clary was wearing her comfy sleeping clothes. A skimpy tank top and shorts. At least it was just some plain shorts and not the kind that has baby animals all over them.

Clary groaned and slapped her forehead. She turned to Izzy sharply. "Look what you made me do. You rushed me so much I forgot to change."

"I told you when we were leaving," Izzy said. "Why didn't you change earlier?"

"Because I fell asleep," Clary said.

Izzy had her arms crossed and lifted a shoulder. It was clear what it said. _Then, it's your fault, not mine._

Then, Izzy spoke. "Why were you sleeping in your pyjamas, anyway?"

"What was I supposed to sleep in?" Clary argued. "My swimsuit from earlier?"

"No. Maybe yoga pants?"

"Yoga pants are no better, they're not publicly accepted for going out."

"Yet," Izzy said. "But at least they're–"

"Ladies, ladies," Magnus said, coming in between the girls, hands splayed out in offer of peace. "Please."

He slid off his black leather jacket and draped it over Clary's shoulders.

"There," he said, admiring his work. "It goes past your derriere."

Clary frowned, still.

"What?" he asked. "You want my pants, too?"

Clary thought Magnus seemed like the person who would jump at the first chance to go pants-less. She refused quickly, "No, thank you."

xxXxx

They strolled on grass, making crackling sounds as their feet flattened the grass beneath. They were being careful to stay on the edge of the lawn and not walk in the centre so as not to attract attention. Wardens did their patrols in the night time religiously. But it was so dark that they'd have to be within seven feet of proximity with the perpetrator to be able to see them. Not to mention they carried flashlights that gave them away.

Clary's feet made contact with asphalt and she could see cars upon cars lined up. Their polished metal surfaces reflecting the street lights. They were at the parking lot.

Magnus led the way to one car in particular. And there, stood Alec and Simon.

"Clary, you.. look cold," Simon said to Clary,

"Mmhmm," Clary replied, shoving her hands further into Magnus' jacket. She was cold indeed.

"Then, why…" Simon looked at her questioningly. He didn't need to finish the sentence.

Clary shook her head. "I couldn't find any pants."

"Oh. Do you want mine?" He asked, his voice getting softer at the end of the sentence, only then realising what he was proposing.

"I swear if another boy offers me his pants…"

Speaking of boys, Jace jogged over to join them. He dangled a set of keys in front of him.

"Got it," he breathed. "Let's go." He walked to the driver's side seat and swung the door open after unlocking it.

As Jace was about to duck into the car, Alec immediately said, "Maybe I should drive." He sounded anxious, like the way Clary's mum did the time Clary fell off her bike when she was five.

Jace gave Alec a frown. "No, Alec," he said. "I always drive." It sounded like a whine.

"I know…" Alec let his sentence hang. And they were doing that thing again. Talking with facial expressions. If Clary didn't know any better, she'd think they were talking in their minds.

After a minute of nearly palpable tension, Jace slid into the driver's side seat. Alec clucked in irritation before taking shotgun.

The rest of them filed into the backseat of the '67 Chevy Impala. Clary was sandwiched between Izzy and Magnus. And Simon was next to Magnus, looking very uncomfortable. They were all uncomfortable about the close proximity but Simon fidgeted the most.

"I call shotgun for the trip back," Simon declared.

"Not if we don't remember to take you with us," Jace said under his breath.

"You wouldn't," Simon said dramatically.

"There's very little thing I wouldn't do," Jace told him matter-of-factly.

Jace made a left turn upon exiting the school. They didn't use the main gate, but instead, went through a small arch in a hedge somewhere which was cleverly concealed by vines. Clary didn't even know there was an opening there if they hadn't driven right through it. They drove on packed earth, veering around tall trees before reaching proper road.

"We won't leave you, Sean," Magnus meant to reassure Simon.

"Simon," Clary and Simon corrected together.

"Right." Magnus smiled.

xxXxx

They went to a club in the middle of nowhere. It was located in a run-down building in a very dark, very shady alleyway. The wind suddenly picked up, sending a piece of newspaper tumbling across and Clary thought it was perfect to complete the look.

But inside, it was happening. The dance floor was crowded with gyrating bodies. The bar attracted people how light attracted moths. The lights in the club were bursting neon colours.

Izzy went over to the bar and ordered a Sangria. She didn't get carded.

The occupants ranged from teenagers like themselves to middle-aged men to bikers to girls on a night out. The music blasted songs screamed in a foreign language. Izzy pulled Clary by the wrist, languidly avoiding unsteady people and merging into the dancing crowd.

Clary had to admit it was fun to jump and throw your hands up and bob your head to angsty music without decorum and direction. The music was so loud it consumed her thoughts whole. There was only adrenaline from all the movement, and careless bodies bumping into her. Once she was sweaty and panting and needing a break, she excused herself from Izzy. Izzy's answer was a pout which was quickly recovered when her eyes found Simon and she made her way to him to make him her next victim.

Clary went to order a Coke. The bartender had tattoos trailing up his forearm to his bicep and disappearing into his sleeve. He had a lip ring and more piercings along one of his eyebrows. Clary downed the drink like it was water. She sensed someone perch onto the stool next to her. Jace pushed his hair out of his eyes. He was sweating too. The bartender acknowledged Jace by nudging his chin at him.

"Wanna get out of here?" Jace asked, gasping for air a little.

"Yeah." Clary was ready to leave.

Jace led her out through the backdoor.

He walked along the curb, then, got on one of the motorbikes parked there like he owned it.

"Wait." Clary said, coming to a stop in front of him. "Whose–is this yours?"

Jace scrunched his face. "No."

"Then.. wh–how?" She paused. "Are we stealing it?"

"Borrowing." Jace turned the keys which were conveniently already in the ignition. The vehicle roared to life. "Would you look at that?" he said, grinning widely. "He left his keys in." He grabbed a helmet from the handle bars and handed it to Clary. "Hop on." He dusted the seat behind him.

Clary put the helmet on to hide the anxiety that must be passing over her face. She stepped forward reluctantly, placing her hands on Jace's shoulders and hurdling her right leg over, making her straddle his waist. She shifted uneasily.

Jace reached over to another motorbike and plucked one helmet, then, putting it on over his head.

"Wrap your arms around my waist," Jace instructed. "When I lean forward, lean with me."

Clary did her bid and the engine rumbled as the motorbike started to move. She was sure Jace could feel her heart hammering like a hurried metronome against his back.

They pulled into alleyways and turned corners and ran red lights. There was no traffic in this isolated and seemingly abandoned town. Clary felt herself enjoying the ride. Jace drove carefully and placidly. He was obviously taking it easy with her on board and Clary's heart swelled.

Jace pulled up slowly. And Clary dismounted the motorbike gingerly. She pulled her helmet off, running her fingers through her locks.

"Follow me." Jace offered her his hand.

There was a forest at the side of the road. He pushed aside the low branches to make way. They wove through some more, then, ascended a steep hill. Jace tightened his grasp on Clary's hands. Clary slipped once and Jace switched hands gripping her hand, using the now free hand to support around her waist.

When they reached the top, Clary's breath escaped in a gush. She saw tiny orbs of bright lights blinking at her. She was brought back to childhood cartoons, playacting the wonders of nature. Only in this case was the reality much better. The fireflies were lighting up the woods, having their own party.

"Wow," she breathed. The word felt inadequate somehow.

Jace was watching her, a smile dancing on his lips. He tilted his head to urge her.

Clary whirled further into the woods, feeling the soft earth beneath her feet and grass tickling her calves. She was now surrounded by the fireflies. She laughed with joy, the sound of her voice tinkling in the cool night air. She shook her head in awe. "This is amazing."

Jace padded to her. "I'm glad you like it."

"I _love_ it," Clary cried, not bothering to tone down her excitement.

Jace laughed softly, his breath shaking her hair. They caught each other's eyes and something about the intensity of his gaze made Clary's smile falter. Jace used a finger to tilt her chin up. Their faces were so close to one another, noses almost touching.

He brought his lips closer to hers, not making contact with them but she could almost taste him. They stayed like that, prolonging the moment, breathing each other in, feeling each other without touching.

And oh so slowly, his lips brushed hers. Soft was Clary's first thought. His lips were soft. She stepped nearer to him–placing her hands on his warm chest–wanting more, asking for more, _needing_ more. But he wasn't rushing it. He ran his lips across hers another time. It was the gentlest of kisses. It was a promise of more. It was a tease.

Then, very suddenly, rain poured over them. They pulled apart and Clary laughed at the less than pleasant timing. Jace looked annoyed for a moment, but when he saw Clary giggling, a corner of his lips lifted, progressing into a full smile. He took her hand and they ran while the rain picked up.

* * *

**That was my first kissing (or something like that) scene. I know..it was bad. I totally did it on a whim, I never intended for them to kiss this early (or ever. ha, jokes). It's just that the setting was calling for it. Ya know? And, yay, longest chapter yet! It probably won't happen again, haha. Also, do you have any theories about the night? Review, loves. xx**

**P.S.: Did you get the reference? ;)**

**Disclaimer: All names belong to Cassandra Clare.**


	11. Jonathan 2

**Surprise.**

**I know it took me forever and I'm so so so so so sorry. But without further delay, here is the next chapter.**

* * *

Chapter 11: Jonathan 2

Simon had been practicing with the football team everyday. When Clary wasn't at the pool herself, she'd visit Simon during those practices. And if she had to describe football practice in one word, she would use 'brutal'. Clary couldn't say football didn't change Simon, because it did, especially physically. He had put on weight–muscle weight–which didn't go unnoticed, particularly by foxy cheerleaders. Simon would walk in corridors and hallways, and it would be impossible for Clary not to notice the staring, gawking girls. Some, even had the audacity to say hi in a suggestive manner or commence physical contact, shoving Clary to the side in the process. At the beginning, Simon replied with a polite smile and an awkward wave, but soon, when all the attention got to him, he responded with equal enthusiasm. And Clary wasn't the only one annoyed.

Idris Boarding School had one more football game before school lets out for Thanksgiving break. It was against the Circle Academy. It would be Simon's first game.

"Mazel tov, Simon," Clary said. They were standing near the bleachers.

"Thanks," he replied, smiling brightly.

There was a pause and then they both asked,

"Where's Jace?"

"Where's Izzy?"

Awkward laughter and rubbing of the back of the neck followed.

"Jace's in the changing room," Simon told Clary.

"Oh," Clary nodded. "Izzy's at the benches, she's saving seats for us. Apparently, Idris vs. the Circle is a popular game."

"Huh, I guess," Simon said as he looked over the fast-filling benches and the colour blue, black and red all over the audience–on their clothes, arms, face, on top of their head.

xxXxx

The shrill sound of the whistle marked the start of the game. Jordan Kyle came out first, striding confidently while his team trailed behind him. They waved and the crowd cheered and hooted. Clary spotted Jace and he waved with the animated excitement of a little boy who got to skip nap time and play with his favourite toy. Clary laughed and shook her head.

Then, it was the Circle Academy's turn to take their place on the field. Clary took a glance at their quarterback and frowned. Her heart jumped and she had no idea why. He had fair-blonde hair, an athletic build, like Jace, and a nice smile as he shook hands with Jordan. She couldn't see the colour of his eyes but for some reason, she was convinced they were green.

The speaker announced his name, Jonathan Morgenstern.

Beside Clary, Alec muttered under his breath, "What the–"

"Hmm?" Clary turned to him.

Alec's eyes were glued on Jonathan Morgenstern, a crease between his eyebrows. Clary poked his arm. "Huh?" Alec turned to her suddenly with wild eyes. "Oh," he cleared his throat. "Nothing. It's just, Jace's name is Jonathan, too."

Izzy spoke up, "Jonathan isn't an uncommon name."

"Yeah," Alec said. "Yeah, you're right."

And Clary thought Izzy _was_ right. Having similar names wasn't something to get all worked up about. So she kept reminding herself that the whole game.

xxXxx

Their team was not doing well. The first quarter of the game, they didn't even earn a score. The other team was incredibly good, their _quarterback_ was incredibly good. There was truth to the rumours after all. Idris football team seemed to be having an off day today. Two people in particular weren't on their feet. Sebastian got tackled every time he got the ball. And whenever Jace passed the ball to his teammates, it never reached their hands. The other team easily surpassed. It went on like that throughout the whole game. They were so distracted. Clary wondered what was on their mind.

Jordan got the ball back on the second quarter. He immediately passed it to Simon. Simon threw it to Sebastian. Sebastian caught it but almost got tackled again. Their coach called for a time-out and started yelling at the guys on defense. And Jordan started yelling at Sebastian and Jace. The two looked like they were going to be sick. They didn't seem to be paying full attention to Jordan–they didn't seem to be paying attention to anything around them–, they just kept glancing at Jonathan Morgenstern.

Soon, the team were rushing back to the field. Jordan was going to go for it. He pulled his arm back, ready to send the ball flying. Way downfield, Jace was outrunning another player. Jordan threw the ball in a perfect arc. It landed in Jace's arm. Clary and Izzy stood up, anticipating a touchdown.

But Jace got tackled and the ball went to their opponent. It got passed to their quarterback. Jonathan made a run for it. And touchdown. The Circle Academy won.

xxXxx

After the game, Izzy was going on and on about how the Circle Academy players must be on steroids and how their coach must be an ex-NBA player and how their own team weren't getting enough incentive this season. Throughout this conversation, Clary simply nodded and hummed at appropriate times. Alec didn't utter a word. He didn't even have a reaction to their team's less than alright performance tonight. It was all very suspicious. But then again, Clary thought, that could be Alec just being his usual cool self.

While they were walking towards the gate, Clary caught sight of Jonathan Morgenstern, talking to men in suits. He turned his head then and his eyes caught Clary's. She was right. They were green.

They maintained eye contact. It was Clary who broke it first. She couldn't comprehend what she was feeling. But what she was sure of was she needed to know about him.

Clary, Izzy and Alec met up with Simon outside.

Clary gave him a sympathetic smile. "Tough first game," she stated.

Simon blew out a breath. "You can say that again."

Soon after, Jace joined them. And Sebastian trailed behind him. This was odd. Clary didn't recall Sebastian ever joining them. He'd hang with Clary and Jace sometimes, but never when the rest of them was around.

"Hey, guys," said Jace, wearing his poker face.

Sebastian's lip was set in a straight line. He was trying to catch Alec's eyes but Alec was looking anywhere but at him.

And then, Jace said, "I'm gonna walk Clary back."

Sebastian's cool cracked. "What?" He looked like Jace just told him he's wearing a dress.

"Listen, it's late and…and we can talk about it another time." Jace gave Alec a sidelong glance.

"No!" Sebastian bursted out. "Jace, this is–"

"Sebastian," Jace began. "It's late. And it's really dark. I wanna make sure my girlfriend gets home safe." Clary's heart flipped at the term. They had always acted like they were more than just friends ever since the night with the fireflies. But they'd never really addressed what they were to each other. And now that he has, Clary's heart was beating double time. "We'll talk soon," Jace said. "Right, Alec?" He was fully facing Alec now, his whole body turned to him.

Alec finally looked at Jace. "Sure, Jace. Whatever you say." Alec made his way to leave, walking towards Jace and stopping right next to him, shoulder-to-shoulder. He said next to his ear, "Just don't lie to me this time."

Jace's eyebrow twitched.

Alec walked away.

Sebastian muttered a stream of something unintelligible under his breath and he left, too.

Jace grabbed Clary's hand and smiled, like he didn't just have an intense exchange with his best friend. "Let me walk you home."

xxXxx

It was silent, only the sound of crickets in the background as they walked under trees en route to the girls's dorm.

Clary cleared her throat. "So…"

Jace gave a little laugh. "That was so embarrassing." Clary tilted her head. "The first game you came to and I played like a chimpanzee with impaired motor nerves."

"You didn't play like a–"

"It's okay, Clary. You don't have to spare me my feelings." Jace looked up. "Only God knows how bruised my ego is."

Clary snorted. "I don't think your ego is 'bruise-able'."

"And I don't think 'bruise-able' is a word."

They walked some more. And then Clary asked, "Have you guys met Jonathan Morgenstern before?"

Clary had expected a different reaction. Tensed shoulder, cold eyes, lips pressed into a thin line. That was her expectation. But Jace was completely relaxed.

He shrugged. "You could say that."

"Who is he?" she dared ask.

"Just someone we've seen before."

"Then why were you guys so weird about him?"

"No particular reason."

"It can't be nothing," Clary said.

Jace didn't say anything. But Clary's curiosity took over her and she wanted answers.

"What is it?" she asked. "Does it have something to do with what happened over summer?"

Jace stopped walking and turned to her. "Clary."

"Tell me, Jace. Why are you so afraid of him?" Clary asked, her voice loud in the silence of the night.

Jace looked at her, dead-on. "Because, Clary, he's supposed to be dead."

* * *

**A cliffhanger. Very evil, yes. But there was no other way this could go down. **

**Now get ready for my excuse for my abrupt, unannounced, drawn-out hiatus; I started college. Yup. Here's to the real world. I was sooo busy, guys (catching your breath was not in the schedule). And emotionally unstable. Haha. *cough* homesick *cough***

**I'd also like to respond to the guest who had no idea what was going on in my story anymore; (It made me really sad, btw.) If you have some spare time, you can always go back to the previous chapters if you'd like. I don't have a better solution, I'm sorry.**

**As always, I'd love to know your thoughts. xx I've missed you all!**

**Disclaimer: All names belong to Cassandra Clare.**


	12. Bye Bye, Boarding

Chapter 12: Bye Bye, Boarding

One near-bursting suitcase filled with three sketchbooks (all full of drawings–courtesy of boring teachers), a dozen T-shirts, two pairs of jeans, pencils and pens with the tips in every shape you can think of and a large pack of colour pencils from mauve to chartreuse later, Clary was all set and ready for home sweet New York City. She was over the moon to go back home and kiss her homework and tiresome bullies and fixed sleeping schedule goodbye.

"It's black and blue." That was Magnus.

"It's white and gold." Jace said in a no nonsense intonation.

Simon was holding his phone in one hand while Jace and Magnus was flanking him. They were all looking at Simon's phone screen. Clary could picture The Dress clearly. It divided the internet population into two teams.

Clary and Izzy had just walked out the door of their dorm building. Clary lagged behind Izzy. She looked fine, really, pulling her suitcase behind her, not a crease on her forehead, but in actuality she was struggling with it. She just couldn't understand how the almost non-existent weight of everyday things could be put in a suitcase and get heavy.

Simon shook his head. "It's so weird that we see different colours."

"People see what they want to see," Izzy said.

Simon raised his eyebrows.

Izzy raised _her_ eyebrows, like the explanation was obvious. It wasn't. Not to anyone, not even to Alec who was fiddling with the lace on his hoodie. She sighed and shut her eyes momentarily. She looked at Magnus. "Black and blue…," she trailed.

And on cue, everyone looked at Alec who immediately turned away but not before blushing a deep red against his alabaster skin.

"Then how come I see white and gold and not red and green?" Jace inquired. "If your crackpot theory _is_ indeed correct."

Izzy checked her nails. "You're in love with yourself."

Jace looked about ready to argue but then shrugged and said, "Can't say you're wrong."

Simon scoffed. He patted Jace on the shoulder, "Your degree of self-loving is goals."

xxXxx

They walked as a group to the parking lot where their parents must be waiting. The boys all carried a duffel bag each and Izzy had only her purse. She hadn't bothered to pack. She had everything at home she'd explained to Clary. Jace had offered to pull Clary's suitcase for her, which she gladly accepted.

When Clary spotted her mother, she rushed over to her and jumped to wrap her arms around her neck. She squeezed with all she had. Jocelyn laughed. They were both laughing.

"I'm so happy to see you," Clary told her giddily.

"Yeah, no kidding," Jocelyn said, laughing. "Happy to have you back, Clary. It's been so quiet without you home."

Clary smiled longingly. Her mother was having a hard time too. She turned around thinking Jace would be behind her but there was only her suitcase. She scanned the lot but the sight of Jace was not found, only faces of other students she couldn't put a name to. She'll introduce him next time then.

xxXxx

On the drive to Manhattan, Clary's mother was talking about Thanksgiving preparations–which deli should they get their bread from, whether or not they should make their own cranberry sauce this year.

Her mother had these Thanksgiving parties every year. She'd invite her artist friends, business partners, potential buyers, previous buyers and everyone in between. Clary was allowed to invite her friends too, of course. But she'd only ever invited Simon. She wondered if she should invite Alec, Izzy and Jace. But then she realised she hadn't exchanged numbers with Izzy or Alec. They never had the need to–they were always around each other, not to mention the strict no cell phones rule at school. They had gotten their phones back the night before and went straight to anti-social mode. And given that Clary was shipped off for seemingly bad behaviour, she didn't think her mother would appreciate that she had went ahead and gotten herself a boyfriend from a school for the notorious. So, she scratched off the idea of inviting Jace as well.

Like her paintings, Jocelyn's parties were simple but special. She insisted sending out party invitations handwritten and the helpers had to be in uniform with green accents. She always served pink lemonade with flower petals plucked to make a pair of wings. That was how you knew it was a Fairchild party.

"Are you having trouble at school, Clary?" Jocelyn asked suddenly.

"What?" Clary asked, taken aback.

"I mean with other kids," she clarified.

Clary didn't answer.

"You know?" Jocelyn prodded. "Bullies."

Clary got it. "Um…" She didn't want to lie. She also didn't want to talk about her bullies. But Jocelyn was waiting for an answer. "I can handle them, Mom. It's nothing. Just petty pranks."

"I know you can," Jocelyn said, which surprised Clary. "I just don't want you to stoop to their level."

And Clary understood what her mother meant.

xxXxx

Jocelyn inserted her key card to their apartment into the slot next to the door. It beeped once and they were granted access. Clary rolled her suitcase to her bedroom door.

"Oh, Clary," Jocelyn said, touching her forehead. "I forgot to bring up my painting. It's for the party. I want to put it right here," she told Clary, pointing to a column in the middle of the big space separating kitchen and living room. "Can you get it for me?"

Clary's eyes widened. "You want me to go all the way downstairs and get it?"

"Please, Clary," Jocelyn coaxed. "I have so much else to do."

As Clary pulled out the painting out of the car boot, it got stuck. She tugged on it but it didn't give. She sighed and started feeling for what had stuck to the painting.

It was then that she saw Jonathan. Jonathan of the Circle Academy. He was across the street, going into a pharmacy.

She ran over to the pharmacy. She halted at the entrance. Her hand hovered over the handle of the glass door. What was she doing? She didn't even know him. And he sure as hell didn't know her. Clary stepped back and watched him from the huge glass window instead. She didn't know what had tweaked her interest. Maybe it was because Jace was being so vague about him.

Jonathan went to the counter and said something to the lady. Her face contorted and she said something back. Jonathan answered. After a pause, she turned around and reached above her head for a box from the cabinet. She gave it to Jonathan and he paid as he said something–probably, 'Thanks'. He shoved both hands in his pockets before exiting.

Clary staggered away. Since there was nowhere to hide herself, she turned away from him.

She heard the chime of the bells as the door opened and then footsteps. It slowly faded away. He was going the other direction. Clary turned to watch him leave.

xxXxx

At the elevator, Clary was about to push '11' when a male voice called, "Hold the elevator!"

Clary didn't need to because he was already sliding inside, a split second short of being squashed between two heavy metal doors.

"Fancy seeing you here," Magnus said.

Clary adjusted the painting under her arm. "You live here?"

"Sure do," he said. He pushed '13'. Clary couldn't believe they never bumped into each other. Though, to be fair, it was a relatively large apartment complex with it's occupants too busy doing important things–as New Yorkers do. "Let me guess," Magnus said. "Your Mom's an artist." The apartment building was known to be home to many of those in the art industry.

"Yeah," Clary said. "Your parents too?"

"My father is. My mother is God knows where," Magnus told her, leaning against the reflective surface of the elevator wall. "Anyway, my father's a fashion designer. _Asmodeus_. You might have heard of him before. He's quite famous around here. No idea why people buy his horrid designs though." He shivered.

The elevator dinged and Clary moved to get out. "Well, see you around, neighbour."

Magnus gave her a two-finger salute.

* * *

**Haha, so I guess nonsensical convos are my talent. Not trying to bring up the dress debate or anything, the idea was just there so I just had to. If you don't know what I'm on about, google 'the dress'. (I see white and gold, if you were curious.)**

**Guys, if you have any like date ideas or whatever you'd like to see the gang do or anything, let me know okay? I'm open to suggestions.**

**Review, fav and follow! xxx**

**Disclaimer: All names belong to Cassandra Clare.**


	13. Pity Party

Chapter 13: Pity Party

Clary turned on her side and groaned. She could see the sunlight from behind her eyelids. She opened her heavy eyelids and saw that her curtains were pulled open. She groaned again and grabbed a pillow to cover her face with enough force to suffocate her.

After a few minutes, she got up groggily and went for her door.

She walked over to the kitchen. At the dining table, she saw her mother at the head of the table with her glasses at the top of her head. There were papers strewn all over the table. At the other end of the table was a big manly head with dark curly hair.

Jocelyn lifted her face and the manly head turned around.

"Clary," Luke called. He stood and opened his arms. Clary flew into them.

"Luke!" she squealed and gave him a tight squeeze.

He squeezed back. "Well, well, if it isn't our very own arsonist," He chuckled.

"Hey!" she pulled away.

He kept chuckling. "Come have breakfast," he said, gesturing with his hand at the food on the table. Then he asked, "Have you showered?"

"No," Clary shook her head with no hint of embarrassment. Her mother looked at her disapprovingly. Luke was practically family. He'd been around since as long as she could remember. He was her mother's agent. He was at their apartment almost as much as Simon was. She remembered she used to call him Dad when she was a child until her mother made her stop. She wondered why he and her Mom never dated.

Clary took a seat in one of the dining chairs at the long dining table. It was dark wood. Clary could easily point out the carving she and Simon made when they were nine without looking. It was concealed under the table runner, but just barely. So her mother never saw. Their cleaners usually changed them.

The centrepiece was peonies today. Clary took a deep breath through her nose. She grabbed for the coffeepot and poured into her cup to the brim. "Hey, Luke. Did you know, they don't let us have coffee." Clary pouted.

Luke's eyes widened drastically. "_Really_?"

"Uh huh," Clary mumbled behind a toast.

"Wow," Luke breathed. "I'd never survive."

"I know," Clary said, swallowing. "You'd rather do 200 hours of community service."

"I'd do 250 if they gave free coffee."

Clary smiled.

"Oh Clary," her mother called. "I'm afraid you're going to have to be home alone today."

"Seriously?" Clary asked. "Why?"

"I have a meeting with the caterer today. We're having a tasting. I don't want her messing up the pie like last year." Clary couldn't remember what was wrong with the pie last year. Her Mom had always been a perfectionist. But she understood why. If she made even one mistake, she'd lose all her guests. There were lots of hosts ready to take her place.

"Okay," Clary said sadly. Her mother gave her a weak smile. Clary turned to look at Luke. "What about you, Luke?"

"I'm busy all day today too," he said. "Sorry, kiddo." He really did sound sorry. Luke was like that. Clary used to guilt-trip him all the time. "Hey," he said suddenly. "Why don't you invite Simon over?"

"Yeah we're not friends anymore," Clary said smoothly.

"What?" Luke said, followed by another "What?" from Jocelyn.

"Gotcha!" Clary snickered. "Oh I got you good," she was looking at Luke.

"Yeah yeah, you got me. Big surprise," Luke rolled his eyes. "But your mother," he said. "That's a shocker. She never fell for one."

"Yeah, Mom. What happened?" Clary asked with faux concern. "You lost your superpowers?"

Jocelyn raised her groomed eyebrows. "Hey now," she said, getting up. "Just because you're in boarding school now doesn't mean I can't still ground you."

Clary shut up immediately and made a zipping motion over her lips.

Luke grinned and got up too. "We'll go out tonight, Clary," he promised. "With Simon, too. Call Simon," he said.

"Yeah, okay," Clary agreed.

xxXxx

Clary was rummaging through the cabinets to find DVDs to watch when she heard a knock at the door.

She padded to it barefooted. She flung it open to find a slumped Magnus Bane. "Hey," he muttered. And walked past Clary into the apartment without waiting to be invited in.

"Hello," she replied. Somehow, Clary wasn't surprised by his 'manners'. But she _was_ surprised by the moody face he was wearing that replaced his usual jovial one.

Magnus sat himself down in a very languid motion. Clary almost felt sorry for him if she didn't know better.

Not seconds after Clary shut the door, it opened back again.

Her mother came in. "Left one of my files," she said, breathlessly. She moved and turned so quickly, she almost–_almost_–missed the glum creature lounging carelessly on her sofa. She stopped short. "Oh, hello," she said to Magnus. There was a question in her voice, almost a demand for him to introduce himself.

Magnus was looking at Jocelyn, transfixed.

"Uh," Clary started. "Mom, this is my friend, Magnus." Her mother raised her eyebrows. "Bane." Her mother continued to stare. "He lives upstairs."

Jocelyn's head swivelled to Magnus. "You don't happen to be Asmodeus' son, are you?"

Magnus blinked and smiled–actually, sneered was a better word for what his lips were doing. "The one and only."

"Well, okay, then," Jocelyn said slowly and a little unsurely. It was obvious Jocelyn didn't want to leave, but she did have work to attend to. So, she gave Clary a quick hug and swung open the door again. "Simon!" she exclaimed, elated–but mostly relieved.

"Hello, Mrs. Fairchild," Simon said goofily. Clary had sent Simon a text earlier to invite him over.

"Oh, good. You can keep Clary company," she said. _From Magnus_ was what she didn't say. But Clary heard it. _Oh great, she was already treating one of my new friends like they were a serial killer, _Clary thought. "See you soon, Simon." She gave him a pat on the arm. Then, raised her eyebrows, approving his upgraded physique. Jocelyn's smile was one of amused.

After Jocelyn left, Magnus said, "That was the first time I witnessed it."

"Witnessed what?" Clary asked as she took the seat beside him, plucking a pillow and hugging it to her.

"Concern."

xxXxx

"So, are we having a party or something?" Simon asked Clary, side-eyeing Magnus.

"_No_," she answered. "Magnus lives upstairs."

"No way," Simon said.

"Tell him, Magnus."

Magnus snorted. "Sure, because I always tell the truth, right?" He leaned back, draping an arm over the sofa.

Clary hummed. "You just have to believe me then, Simon. By default."

Simon shook his head. "I can't believe it. That's such a coincidence." He stretched his legs in front of him. "So how come we've never seen you around."

Magnus sighed, suddenly looking _very _tired. "I don't know, Simon. Magic?" he answered while rubbing his hands on his face.

Clary and Simon looked at each other but it didn't pass their notice that he'd said Simon's name correctly this time.

"You know what?" Magnus said. "Simon's right. You guys _should_ throw me a party."

"Really?" Clary said. "What kind of party?"

"A pity party."

"Awwwww," Clary cooed. "What's the matter? Did the tailor run out of glitter for your suit?"

"_No_. This isn't a joke Clary," Magnus frowned. "Although, that would be an equally devastating situation." He rested his head back. "_You're_ lucky," he said. "_Your_ Mom made you breakfast."

Clary's eyes flicked to the dining table still laden with toast and cinnamon rolls. "That's it?" Clary asked. "You're depressed 'cause your Dad didn't make you breakfast?"

Magnus groaned and ran his hand all over his hair. It was a mess now. "Forget it. You wouldn't understand."

"Did you have a fight with your Dad?" Simon asked.

"Bingo," he said, pointing at Simon. "This one's got the idea."

"Yeah, I do. But he's passed now," Simon told him.

"Well, I've never even met mine," Clary said.

"Trust me, it's for the better," Magnus told her.

"You can't be serious," Clary said, incredulously. She'd always thought having a father was better than not having a father. But Magnus was, indeed, serious. It kind of stung that Clary had always wondered what her father was like and here Magnus was, unhappy with his. _They must really have bad blood._

Clary scooted nearer to Magnus. "Do you want some breakfast?"

He smiled. "Yes, actually, I'm quite famished from all this moping around."

"Yeah. It _does_ look tiring," Simon said.

* * *

**Hey, guys, hey. So a few things. One, I bet you're all so furious with me. It's okay though, you totally can. It's been months. So... To make it up to you, I'll be posting three chapters today. So keep an eye out for another two chapters coming your way in the next 24 hours. **

**Two, AnonymousAdmirer**** asked, and all I have to say is this; NO, I am _not_ abandoning you! Are _you _abandoning me?!**

**And most importantly, I want to thank you guys for staying with me. Your support means so much more to me than you think. Kiss kiss**

**Also, sidenote; HAVE YOU SEEN THE SHADOWHUNTERS TV SHOW SNEAK PEEK? I swear, they're trying to kill us. I'm dead. I'm already dead. Alec is bae. Okay, bye now, see you in a few hours.**

**Disclaimer: TMI belongs to Cassandra Clare. Come on now, you know this.**


	14. Dead Dad

Chapter 14: 'Dead' Dad

After Magnus went home, Luke came by again to pick up Clary and Simon for a night out as promised.

They were going bowling.

Simon and Luke had already walked out.

"Have fun," Jocelyn said to Clary.

"Thanks, Mom," Clary said, turning to leave. Her hand hovered over the doorknob. She didn't know why she had the need to know this now. She turned back around. "Hey, Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"Where did my father go?" she asked.

Jocelyn's face fell. "Clary..," she began.

Clary inwardly sighed. This was going to end how it always ended when it came to the topic of her father and late brother; _a melancholic mother and no real answers_. She never meant to make her mother unhappy by recalling sad memories, but she deserved to know too, right?

But what Jocelyn said next surprised her. "He left."

_That's something, at least. _"No, I know." Clary walked to her. "I mean, _where_ is he?"

Jocelyn's eyebrows knitted together. "You're not going to look for him, are you?"

"No, I just–"

"He left, Clary. I have no idea where he went and I don't ever intend on finding out. He left a year after your brother–" Jocelyn stopped short. Clary's chest felt tight. "He was absent during the darkest period in my life. He was barely ever home. And–and he never found out I had you."

"What?" Clary's asked, baffled.

"No," Jocelyn said strongly. And went to cup Clary's face in her hands. "You must never look for him, Clary. He's dead to us. Just like–" Jocelyn looked down into Clary's eyes. She swallowed a few times. This was taking so much out of her. "Your brother."

Her mother looked so sad, it made Clary want to promise her anything. She nodded.

Her mother smiled and kissed her on the forehead. "Go have fun."

So, Magnus was right after all.

xxXxx

They climbed into Luke's car. Clary in the front seat, Simon at the back. As Clary clicked her seatbelt into place, she heard a crackling from behind.

"Oh, God," Simon said with his eyes shut tight. "Luke! I swear, if I destroy one of your client's art again, I'll never forgive myself."

Clary peeped at the back and giggled. "Simon, silly. They're just empty plastic bottles."

Simon peeked open one eye and looked down. "Oh," he breathed, clearly relieved. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I knew that."

"Sure you did."

xxXxx

They were typing in their name. And Simon put himself as 'Si' and Clary as 'Cl'. Luke typed 'Luke'.

"'Cl?'" Clary asked.

"Yeah," Simon said. "And I'm Si. Like the period table. Cl is chloride and Si is silicon. You know?"

"Yeah, I know," Clary replied, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. She muttered, "Nerd." under her breath.

"Hey," Simon said.

Clary laughed. "Go on, you're up first."

Simon chose a 14-pound bowling ball. He crouched, swung his arm back and front, then released. The ball curved right and straight into the gutter. He did the next one and the ball knocked down one pin.

"You bent your arm," Clary told him.

"What? Did I?"

"Yes," she slapped his arm. "You always do." Clary went ahead for her turn.

She got a spare. It showed a '/' sign on the scoreboard.

Then, it was Luke's turn. Luke picked the heaviest ball. The force he used to throw the ball made the loudest rolling sound when he released it. Then, a strike.

"Of course," Clary and Simon said begrudgingly.

The game went on like that for a couple of rounds.

After Luke's turn again, he'd gotten a turkey; which is three strikes in a row.

"Aw, no fair," Clary whined.

"What do you mean?" Luke asked, turning around, looking amused.

"You always do this, Luke. Can't you just pretend to be bad for one night?"

"Yeah, Luke," Simon seconded.

Luke grinned. "Alright. What do you guys propose?"

Simon and Clary looked at each other. "Me and Simon against you."

Luke let out a laugh. "Okay," he said. _Confident, are we?_

"If we win," Simon added. "You have to buy us Burger King."

"And if win?" Luke asked.

Simon looked at Clary. Clary shrugged. "I don't know," he answered lamely. "You get a hug?" Simon lifted a shoulder.

"Hmm," Luke hummed, disinterested.

"Okay, how 'bout this? Bragging rights."

"Bragging rights?"

"Yeah, you get to brag… for a week. Rub it in our faces."

"Deal."

Clary gaped at Simon. She couldn't believe he'd offered that. She was never going to hear the end of it. It was going to be a long week. Luke wasn't particularly boastful, but if given the offer, he'd completely utilise it. She made a mental memo to invite Simon over every day so she didn't have to endure it alone. It was his bright idea after all.

After that, Clary started really coaching Simon. She was right by his side whenever it was his turn. Picking his bowling ball and demonstrating how to throw and fixing his stance and everything.

Then, it was the last round. And the scores were looking pretty good for Simon and Clary. There was hope yet. They tallied up each of their scores, adding Simon and Clary's and comparing them with Luke's.

But alas, they still lost. Dissatisfied, Simon tore the paper they used to count on in two.

"Hey, kids," he opened his arms. "I win fair and square."

Clary frowned at him. "No, you did not. It's not fair because you've got like a dozen years of experience above us."

"Are you calling me old, Clary?" he asked.

"Definitely," Simon said.

"Oh yes," Clary said. "Of course."

They all laughed.

That was when Clary saw a guy with fair blonde hair at a pool table on the other side of the vast area. He was leaning over it, aiming for his shoot. She decided she was going to talk to him this time. Introduce herself, instead of dodging. A harmless act, right? What was wrong with making friends? She had a peculiar interest in Jonathan Morgenstern. Although, she couldn't say if she liked him or not.

"I'm gonna go get a soda," Clary announced. "You want anything, Simon?"

"I'll go with you," he said.

"No, it's fine. The vending machine's just there."

"O-kay," Simon said. "Coke, then."

Clary walked over to the pool area. She approached Jonathan's table. There were a couple of his friends there too, who didn't seem too friendly. Clary took a deep breath.

"Hey," she said to the back of his blonde head.

He stopped his stick from switching angles and started to stand up straight. He turned around to face Clary.

It wasn't Jonathan.

"Oh," Clary said under her breath.

Not Jonathan grinned at her. "Hey," he said. "What's up?" He propped his chin on his pool stick, looking Clary up and down.

"Uh, nevermind," Clary said. "I thought you were someone else. Sorry."

"S'okay," he said, still grinning.

Clary passed their table and went to the vending machine to get two Cokes.

Clary had to admit, she felt disappointed. Who knew when she'd see Jonathan again. She knew she should've talked to him outside the pharmacy. It was worth the embarrassment to appease this nagging feeling.

That night, Luke took them to Burger King anyway. Simon ordered a burger and onion rings. And Clary asked for their chicken nuggets.

* * *

**I don't have anything to say here, really. But I like talking to you guys. So, here's a fact. I always write these with music on. Which is weird because I used to find them distracting. **

**How did you like this chapter? Did it make you laugh? Or smile at least? xx**

**Disclaimer: TMI belongs to Cassandra Clare. Come on now, you know this.**


	15. Pity Party Pooper

Chapter 15: Pity Party Pooper

Clary was walking down an abandoned alley. It was dark. Doubtlessly around midnight. She wondered how she'd gotten herself into this mess. Stranded. In the middle of the most dangerous parts of New York. She flipped out her cellphone. Dialling the same number over and over again. No answer all the time.

"Please. Please, come on," she whispered–her breath puffed out in clouds in the winter night.

Her phone froze and the screen turned to white and then black.

"Damn it," she muttered.

What was she supposed to do now? These streets were not familiar to her. She had no business being here. It was foolish to run out like that. She knew. But all her rationale were buried under anger at the time.

She looked across the street. A couple of girls stood. They wore the tiniest shorts she'd ever seen and heeled boots. One of them wore a glossy crop top while the other wore a tank top two sizes too small for her. They were going to get pneumonia at this rate. Clary shivered just looking at them.

She rubbed her hands together, warming them. She'd been walking for almost an hour now. She wondered if she should just stop and wait for someone to get her.

She heard boots clacking against the pavement behind her. It sounded far enough but too close that she felt uncomfortable, especially in this eerily lonely streets. She picked up her pace. She passed a streetlight that had gone out, then a fallen trash. She walked faster–hoping her successor wouldn't be able to keep up–and rounded the corner of the building. She was back in another alley. This, darker than the one before–pitch black if not for the lone light post.

Clary was walking so fast she almost bumped into a man's chest. He was at least twice her height.

"Oh," she was startled.

The man was dressed smartly. He wore a long checkered coat with a hat and a scarf and leather shoes. He looked like a business person coming home from a fancy party.

"Excuse me, sir," Clary said panickedly. "T–there is a man following me!" she told him. "He was right behind me. Please, you have to help!"

"Is that so, young lady?" The man looked down at her with eyebrows pulled together. "Don't worry," he said. "You'll be safe with me." His voice was smooth and clear.

Clary got this uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She took a step back. The man took a step forward.

"Please. Come with me," he said in that clear voice. "I'll take you back into the city." He held one arm open, indicating that that was the way.

Clary was ready to bolt the other direction–the direction she'd entered the alley from.

The man must've sensed it because he nodded to someone behind her.

But Clary was already turning around, sprinting. And there he was–the guy with the boots–blocking her way. Clary moved away. She got her back against one of the buildings flanking the alley, so she could see them both. She mentally cursed. She was cornered.

The man in coat laughed. "There's no where to run now."

They started to close in on her.

Clary screamed.

She screamed with everything she's got. She wouldn't give up. She wouldn't be taken like this. She'd put up a fight.

Then, suddenly, a crashing sound broke her scream.

The guy in boots was being pushed against the wall–or into the wall in this case. His contender seemed intent on trying to make him and the filthy wall one. He was being punched in the face and in the gut and being pushed around.

Clary looked to her left and the guy in the coat was lying amongst bottles and shards. He grunted as he tried to get up, only to be knocked down again. The person kneeing him in the stomach laughed.

"Come on now," the person said, with a smile in his voice. Clary would recognise the voice anywhere. "You're not even trying."

The coat guy could only lay there after a while. The blood on his face looked black. He was moaning and twisting and turning. His eyes were closed.

His opponent grabbed him by the collar, causing him to wince. "This night didn't turn out the way you thought it would, did it?" He coughed and blood spluttered on his coat. "That's what I thought."

Jace finally let the man's body fall to the ground. It made a loud thud. He ran his fingers through damp hair and gave Clary a grin. "Damn," he said with a shake of his head.

There was a laugh from behind her. It belonged to a male as Clary had expected.

Then, Jace said, "Remind me not to make your sister angry again," He came closer to Clary and took hold of her chin. He brought his face down and kissed her.

"Oh? And what have I been doing all this while?"

Clary turned around and saw the face to that voice.

_Jonathan Morgenstern. _

xxXxx

Clary woke up with a jolt. She sat up on her bed, breathing fast and hugging herself. The cold she felt from her dream felt real. Clary blinked repeatedly, trying to climb into reality completely. She sat there for awhile, contemplating what her dream meant. But then she gave a short laugh. "I must be losing my mind," she whispered to herself. "Stupid school is driving me insane."

Deciding the dream meant nothing more than a dream being as unreal as a dream, she climbed out of bed and went into her bathroom.

She turned the faucet. The sound of running water filled her ears, drowning away the remnants of her dream.

Clary waited as water filled the pristine bathtub. And then she heard her phone chime. She went back into her bedroom to get it.

_My place, 11pm. Izzy_

xxXxx

These were the thoughts running through Clary's mind–in this particular order–upon receiving the text. First of all, _Where and how did Izzy get my number?! _Second, _Oh, yeah. Student files, that's where. _Third_, Infiltration, that's how_. Fourth, _'My place' is an extremely vague term and definitely insufficient information–for newly friends, that is. _And lastly, _11PM? Are you kidding me? Some of us have upgraded curfew after so and so incident, which just so happens to be 11pm._

After her bath and getting dressed, Clary went over to her full-length mirror. She piled her hair high up on her head, then, twisted them and rolled them into a messy bun. She held it in one hand and turned away from the mirror to grab some bobby pins. And then she looked back in the mirror.

There was someone behind her.

Clary screamed. Her hand went to her chest. "Jesus, Simon."

Simon looked as shocked as Clary in the mirror, behind her. "Jumpy are we, today?"

Clary grumbled. She twisted the bun tighter on the top of her head, securing bobby pins into them.

"Sorry. Your Mom let me in," he said. Simon sat on her bed.

Clary sighed. "It's fine." She went to sit next to him. "So, how are we supposed to find Izzy's house?"

"Find Izzy's house? What for?"

_Uh-oh. Did Izzy not text him? _"Umm. You know? I don't know. She didn't say." Simon looked confused. "The text only said to meet at her place." Again, confusion passed over his face. So, Simon didn't get the memo. Simon frowned. "Hey, maybe she doesn't have your number."

"Yeah, maybe," he said. If Clary didn't know any better she'd think he sounded disappointed. He lied down, his feet still touching the floor.

Clary leaned facing him with her elbow on the bed supporting her and her head resting on her palm. "Hey, Silicon."

"Yes, Chloride?"

Clary smiled. "Do you like Izzy?"

He turned his head to her. "I mean, isn't it obvious?"

Clary shook her head.

"What?" He sat up, mirroring Clary's posture.

"To me, it is. But to Izzy," Clary pouted. "Probably not."

"Why isn't it obvious? I'm always nice to her."

"Yeah, but you're nice to everyone. You act like you have a crush on every girl. Those girls following you, for example. I bet _they_ think they're pretty special."

"Oh," he said.

"Yeah," Clary said.

xxXxx

At around 10 minutes to 11 at night, Clary heard the doorbell. She was in her PJs and her fluffy slippers. Clary looked through the peep hole to make sure it wasn't someone delivering her her death sentence.

It wasn't. It was Magnus.

He widened his eyes when Clary opened the door.

"Don't tell me this is how you always dress to go out at night," he said. "Because, I mean, even–even _I_ am not that daring."

Clary rolled her eyes, going back inside. "I'm not going, Magnus. I have a curfew."

"A _curfew_?" he asked incredulously like she just said a foreign word. He followed her inside and looked around. "But your Mom's not home, is she?"

"No."

"So, then, let's go."

"But what if she comes back?"

"We won't be long," Magnus told her. "Izzy just wants to have her own pity party. It will be a second. She just gets it all out in one breath."

"Her too?"

Magnus was quiet.

"You're lucky your Mom cares so much about you," he said after a while, looking at a photo from an end table.

"Well," Clary began. "You guys are lucky too. You have each other."

Magnus smiled a kind of sad smile. "'Friends are family you choose', right?" He put the photo down. "Now, hurry up and get ready. I'll wait." He was already checking out the alcohol cabinet. He slid out a slim bottle. No need to tell Magnus to make himself at home.

Clary picked a navy blue sleeveless dress that stopped mid-thigh and a leather jacket. Those are perfect for the 'cold, but not really winter' weathers. She wore them with tights and a pair of boots.

Clary texted Simon and she and Magnus met him downstairs at Magnus' car.

xxXxx

Izzy's house turned out to be a brownstone on a quiet street immaculately lined with trees. Clary knocked on the door once.

It swung open.

"Great," Izzy muttered. "You brought _Simon_." She might've sounded agitated to untrained ears but to Clary, she sounded more embarrassed than annoyed.

Izzy's eyes looked a little puffy, like she'd been crying. There were shadows under her eyes. And she wasn't wearing makeup.

"Hello to you too," Simon said, trying to be cheery.

Izzy invited them in. And immediately started talking really fast. She was so angry, making gestures the whole time. Clary couldn't keep up. In the living room, Alec was lounging on the sofa. A young boy was sleeping in his lap. The light from the television made colourful patterns on their still forms in the dimness of the room. Izzy continued babbling as they sat down–albeit her voice was hushed now. Clary took a seat on an ottoman a little further off. Alec looked tired. The house was quiet apart from the faint noise coming from the TV. Their parents must not be home.

A while later, Clary saw Jace making hand signals from the kitchen calling her over. She glanced at her friends across the living room. They were transfixed on Izzy; and Alec on the television–absently watching it. Clary got up slowly. She stepped quietly to Jace.

"Hi," he said.

"Hey," Clary said. "What's wrong with Izzy?"

"What's _not_ wrong with Izzy? Her parents. The world not revolving around her. Everything," he said. "She'll get over it. Come on."

Clary followed Jace into the kitchen–which was very modern compared to the living room. They passed the breakfast bar and went out through the back door.

"Jace," Clary called in a hushed voice. "Where are we going?"

"My house."

xxXxx

Jace's house was equally dark. He trotted upstairs while Clary followed suit. She couldn't see much in the darkness but from what she _could_ see, there were a lot of antiques, very old-fashioned wallpapers and wall trimmings. It was a novelty for Clary–her home, Simon's home had always been very modern, all the houses she's been to was on par with this century. But Jace's house had statues of heads sat on a dark wood table and paintings of men and women from a different era. There was a grand piano in the living area.

Upstairs, Jace made a left and entered a room. He flipped a switch and the lights went on.

Clary stood at the doorway. Neat. Jace's room was neat. In the corner, there was a neglected pile of old books. His bed was sat low. He had a chair and a desk in another corner. There was a DVD organiser, a dresser and a tall mirror right beside it. The walls were bare. No band posters. No family photos.

"Come in," he said.

Clary took a step inside and looked at his collection of DVDs. A lot of piano classics.

"You play?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said.

She smiled at him.

He took a step towards her. And then another. And another until they were face to face. He brought his face close to hers. Their noses touched. He was looking at her with sorrowful eyes.

"I've missed you, Clary," he whispered, his breath fanning on her cheeks.

"Me too," she said, touching his cheek.

And he kissed her. With soft and sure lips. His tongue traced her bottom lip lightly, running it from left to right. And because he asked so, so nicely, Clary opened her mouth and that teasing tongue slid in. He sighed. Jace's hands went to her hips. And Clary put her hands on either side of his neck. She remembered her dream. It hadn't felt as good as this.

Jace grew insistent in their kiss. Like he was telling her something, something he couldn't say out loud. His hands moved to her waist, slowly ascending.

Suddenly, there was a sound from downstairs, like glass smashing to the ground. Clary pulled back swiftly. "What was that?"

Jace muttered something under his breath which Clary thought sounded like 'stupid cat.

He sighed deeply. "It's the Lightwoods' cat," he said. "And apparently, it thinks this is it's home."

xxXxx

Later, Clary and Jace went back to Alec and Izzy's home.

Alec was carrying Max–the little boy in his lap earlier–upstairs. Izzy had calmed down a notch. And everyone was just huddled together in the living room, mindlessly watching the advertisement playing on the wide screen TV that showed a puppy chasing a little kid around the lawn.

When the kid fell down, there was a knock on the door. Izzy got up to get it.

"Sorry to bother you late at this hour, ma'am," a gruff male voice spoke. "I'm Detective Pangborn and this is Detective Pontmercy." Everyone started filing into the foyer at that point. The police officers' regarded their presence–a little surprised at the crowd that had suddenly materialise before him. "We're here to take in Alexander Lightwood for questioning," he continued.

The air filled with anxiety. "What for?" Izzy asked in a surprisingly calm voice–challenging even.

"There had been a report of a claimed murder recently. The person who reported it was very anxious. It happened over four months ago, you see. Guilty conscience for not reporting it sooner," he explained.

Clary felt faint at the word 'murder'.

"You must have the wrong person," Izzy said. "A _murder_? My brother– He– I don't–" she couldn't finish her sentence. She looked deceived more than anything, like she couldn't believe she was using the words 'my brother' and murder' in one sentence–let alone relating the two.

"Alexander Gideon Lightwood. 18. Student at Idris Boarding School. About 6 foot tall. Black hair," the detective said monotonically, as if he'd said it over a hundred times before. "If you could just bring him out here."

"No," Izzy said. "He's–"

"What's going on here?" Alec asked out of nowhere. He was coming down the stairs.

"Alexander Lightwood?" Detective Pangborn asked.

"Yes?" Alec said.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to come with us."

Alec started walking to them. He didn't ask why.

"No, Alec," Izzy held on to his arm.

"Izzy," Alec whispered sharply. He looked formidable in the darkness with the shadows cast on his serious face.

Izzy let go. She looked furious as well.

The two detectives and Alec started to leave when suddenly Detective Pangborn did a double-take on Jace. "Do you happen to live next door?" he pointed to the house on the left–Jace's house.

"Yes," Jace said.

The detective took a good look at him. "We were there first, but no one was home," he said. "Are you Jonathan Wayland, by any chance?"

Clary caught the slight lift of the corner of his lips. "Yes, actually. I am."

"You–"

"Yeah, I'll go with you," Jace cut him off. "No need to ask twice."

And just like that, the four of them left in a black car with tinted windows, leaving another four people perplexed on the door step of the Lightwood home.

* * *

**Okay, see ya, next update will be in two months. **

**I'm joking, I'm joking. The title sounds a little playful for the actual situation, doesn't it? Anyway, we're getting closer to uncovering what happened in the summer. Are you excited? And can I just say, this is over 2.5k words! Can I get a high five?**

**You know the drill. Review, fav and follow! xx**

**Disclaimer: TMI belongs to Cassandra Clare. Come on now, you know this.**


	16. Truth or Glare?

**Enjoy...**

* * *

Chapter 16: Truth Or Glare?

They arrived at the police station very soon. There was barely any traffic that night, which everyone was grateful for. Clear, quiet roads were very uncharacteristic of New York. Everyone got out of Magnus' car hastily, making for the entrance to the dreaded place.

It smelled like disinfectant, which was disarming to Clary. She'd expected the stench of booze, gritty surfaces and perhaps the slightest tinge of urine in the air. At the front desk, Izzy asked the stern-looking lady about her brother and Jace–talking about a million miles an hour. The lady caught everything at once. She explained that they'd have to have a legal guardian present to pick up Jace and Alec. _You mean bail them out._

"They're not being locked up, honey," the lady said, looking at Clary. "Just held for questioning." Clary hadn't realised she'd said that out loud.

Clary turned her back and they went over to a long bench that was pushed against the wall. There was a plant next to it.

Izzy was slightly trembling. "I have to call my parents," she said by way of excuse.

Magnus massaged the back of his skull. "I.. better try to get hold of Jace's father," he said in an oddly fatalistic tone.

And Clary and Simon were left to sit on the bench, looking like two kids whose parents were too late picking them up after school.

xxXxx

After what felt like a lifetime, Izzy's parents finally showed up.

Their father stepped inside first–making the glass door creak–quickly followed by their mother. They both wore business suits and deep frowns.

Izzy sprang up from her seat, next to Clary.

Clary had expected outrage–like her mother's when _she_ was at the police station. She remembered that night very vividly and tried not to physically wince at the memory of Jocelyn's face. But, Izzy's parents' reaction was the opposite of. They talked in very hushed voices. Clary wasn't sitting that far away from where they were stood, and she couldn't hear a whisper. Izzy talked most of the time and her mother would nod and say something back. However, not to be fooled, they weren't happy at all–not one bit. The lines on their father's weathered face were getting deeper and deeper by the second. The amount of self control it must take to not raise his voice.

After a while, their father moved past Izzy mid-conversation to get to the front desk. He addressed the lady–the same one they'd talked to earlier. There was more talking. It looked so intense. Their father looked murderous at this point. Their mother took her phone out, she dialled rapidly and was about to say something into the phone when their father waved for her to stop.

Clary saw that Simon was watching as intently as she had, his eyes flicking from one side to the other–like watching a ping-pong tournament. Magnus, on the other hand, was just seated casually, stretching his long legs in front of him–looking comfortable on the metal bench, only, his posture held the essence of tension.

After a few more exchange of words between their father and the front desk lady, she turned her back to him and entered a door to her left, but not before shooting a look of disgust slash disapproval at him.

"What do you think he said to her?" Clary whispered to Simon.

"Gimme back my son, or else..," Simon said in a fake deep voice–supposedly intended to sound like Batman's.

Before Clary could respond, the lady came back out with Alec. And Clary could feel the whoosh of air as Magnus stood. Alec didn't see him, though. He was too caught up in the conversation near him. His father was louder now. It seemed as though the lady was asking him to sign some papers and he refused. She kept pointing at a spot on the paper with a pen.

Alec's dad just took him by the shoulder and the whole family walked away.

Right before Alec's face disappeared out past the door, he looked up at Magnus. An exchanged promise.

Clary heard the sigh of relief from Magnus. "Come on," Magnus said. "Let's get you guys home."

Clary faced Magnus. "What about Jace?"

"Jace… His father..," Magnus shook his head. "I couldn't get hold of Mr. Wayland," he said simply.

"What?" Clary asked, dissatisfied. "Why not? Isn't he answering? Give me his number, I'll try."

"No, Clary. I–" Magnus rubbed his face with both hands. "I can't do that."

"Why not?" Clary was angry now.

"I just can't, okay?" Magnus said, equally frustrated–as Clary was.

Clary waited for an answer that wasn't repetitive.

"Trust me when I say this, I'd give his number to you in a heartbeat, right this moment. To get Jace out. But certain–" He searched for words. "Certain decisions aren't up to us, even when we have the power. And this is one of them."

Clary hated that she understood that because then she couldn't counter his argument. So, she said, instead, "Do you think he'll be okay?"

"He'll be fine," Magnus told her, patting her shoulder. "It's not his first time in jail."

Clary looked at him sharply.

He grinned, but recovered quickly. "Besides, I'm positive there was no fatality."

_That's right, Magnus knew the full story. _"Magnus, you _have_ to tell me what happened."

Magnus sighed deeply. "Like I said, certain decisions–"

Clary waved him into silence. "Yeah, yeah."

"You know, you could just ask him. At this point, he'd have to tell you."

"He better," Clary grumbled.

Magnus smiled. "That's the spirit. And, I'm sure Izzy is nagging at Alec for the truth as we speak. You could ask her later."

That was true. But it suddenly hit Clary that she didn't want to hear it from Izzy or Magnus, or anyone else. She wanted to hear it from Jace. No matter how hard it was to get the truth out of him. It was mysterious and intriguing in the beginning, but now it's just annoying. She wanted him defeated.

xxXxx

So, according to Magnus, they were going to contact Jace's father, either way, since he's under 18–he knew this from experience. And they probably wouldn't release him until after 24 hours–he knew this from watching _CSI_.

Clary had arrived at her apartment at around 1 a.m. She cracked open the door to her mother's bedroom and found that she was fast asleep and hadn't blown out her candles. Clary tiptoed inside and blew them out for her. She went out pulling the door as slowly and quietly as possible while keeping the knob turned.

Inside her room, Clary collapsed onto her bed immediately. She closed her eyes for a long time but sleep wouldn't come. She was tired but not sleepy. Clary opened her eyes and looked at the glow in the dark stars decal on her ceiling. She and Simon had them up when they were ten. It was calming to look at them. It made her feel ten again. When the only thing she worried about was her missing her favourite shows and cartoons. When not every single decision you made was going to impact your whole life and alter its course. When you were happier and lighter.

All those thoughts made Clary slowly graze the brink of sleep only to be awaken by the sound of her phone. She reached into her back pocket and slid it out.

_Are you awake? J_

Clary texted back.

_Well, I am now_

_:)_

_What do you want?_

_Are you angry?_

_Of :) course :) not :) C :)_

_Okay….._

_Of course I'm angry the police came to your house! And I've no idea why :(_

_It's complicated, Clary…_

Jace texted again.

_So, can you come downstairs?_

_What?_

There was no reply.

_Jace? Hello? Where are you?_

_Downstairs. _

_You mean MY downstairs?_

_Yeah._

Clary gaped at the text. What was he thinking? Coming over in the middle of the night? The lobby security would get back to her Mom. Clary scurried out of her bed and made for the front door as quietly as she could.

Her phone pinged.

_I mean I would totally climb in through your bedroom window but you live on the 11th floor. _

_Now if it was the tenth floor…_

Clary reached the ground floor. She hid behind a wall and peered past it. The only person in the lobby was the doorman. Puzzled, Clary looked around and saw that Jace was outside waving at her through the wide glass window.

Clary turned her back. She walked past a couple of armchairs in the corner and turned to a small space on her left. She took two steps and met the emergency exit.

When she stepped outside, there was a rather huge gap from one step to the next–it looked like the first step was crumbled–and Clary slipped. But Jace caught her just in time.

He gripped both her forearm. Clary looked up to face him.

"Okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she breathed.

Jace was still holding her and it felt good to be. But she wouldn't relent. So, with effort, she shrugged off his arms and crossed hers across her chest.

Jace sighed.

They were quiet for a long time. Clary could hear the rustles of the fallen leaves being blown by the wind. She was starting to think if she was crossing a line. If it really were something personal and that she shouldn't push him so much.

Clary was about to tell him that it's okay, never mind, he didn't have to tell her, she would still be with him even if he wouldn't tell her, when Jace broke the silence.

* * *

**Will Clace break up? Or will Jace man up? Find out today when you review! :D**

**Disclaimer: TMI belongs to Cassandra Clare. Come on now, you know this.**


	17. Truth

**I shall not make you wait any longer, angels. This is going to be short and straight to the point.**

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Chapter 17: Truth

"It might make you change your mind about me."

"I don't care."

"I do."

"Nothing could make me change my mind about you, Jace."

He nodded and swallowed once.

"It was a week before summer ended. Sebastian had a friend and that friend had a friend who knew about this organised fighting competition. It's illegal and pretty much underground and you only joined if you have the right connections," he smiled, "Or _wrong_ connections. So I told Sebastian I was in, thinking it would be a great experience. And of course I invited Alec. He agreed to going with me but he didn't want in the ring. It was serious business. Like there were people who ended up in emergency rooms. And there was no minimum age, pretty much if they think you look old enough, they'll let you in. We went in my car. Apparently, the place was in the middle of nowhere, deep in the woods, and there was a lot of people, it was stuffed. Then, it got to my turn. The guy I was up against was well over 20. Mid-fight, all of a sudden, there was this siren that sounded far off. At first, I thought it was just me. I thought I was hearing things from getting hit in the head so many times."

"It was the police. Naturally, everyone fled. Sebastian, Alec and I bolted too. We got into my car and I drove off. But, suddenly, out of nowhere, this guy came into the road. I swear, it seemed like he just materialised in the middle of the road. I braked but it was too late. I'd hit him. The three of us got out of the car. He was unconscious and Alec checked his pulse. He said he didn't find one."

"Maybe he couldn't find a pulse. Maybe he missed it," Clary said.

Jace didn't seem to hear her or if he did, he ignored her words. He went on–he looked ghastly, like he was back at the scene, "We could hear the sirens getting louder now. Sebastian said we should just leave. That it was too late anyway. There's nothing we could do. Alec said we should stay. He said now that someone was dead, we had to stay. They were arguing back and forth. I understood Alec. That was the right thing to do. It was the right for _me_ to do. I could see the police cars approaching so I pushed them both away into the forest at the side of the road. I shouted at them to go. They wouldn't, so I said I'd be right behind them. Alec hesitated, he could see right through my bluff. But Sebastian believed me, so he pulled Alec along with him. When I turned back around, the body was gone. I looked around but there was no one. And then a police car stopped beside mine. A police officer grabbed me and took me to the police station. I ended up not telling them about the hit, I didn't know what had happened. They wouldn't have believed me anyway, since there was no body. They'd assume I was hallucinating. I admitted to participating in illegal activities, trespassing and other stuff. And of course," he laughed humourlessly–sounding bitter. "My dad got me out of it, as he always do. Next day, I told Alec and Sebastian about the body disappearing. Alec was just as taken aback as I was. It didn't make sense. Sebastian, said maybe he was't dead after all, maybe he walked away. But that didn't make sense either. I didn't know what to think. I just–I really think–I mean, there was no pulse." All throughout the story Jace wasn't looking at Clary, he stared straight ahead at the back wall of Clary's apartment.

"And at the game the other day," Jace said. "Jonathan Morgenstern. He looked like him. Like the guy I hit. Imagine our shock when we saw him."

"I didn't have to imagine I saw it on your faces," Clary told him.

Jace gave a forced smile.

After he finished, Clary noticed he didn't look as tense as before he started the story–like there was a weight lifted off his shoulders. Right now, Jace was silent–he hung his head and both elbows rested on his knees. He still wouldn't look at Clary. They were sitting on the brick pavement. There was so much she wanted to say. So much guilt she wanted to clear from Jace's conscience. But she knew he wouldn't have any of it. It happened so long ago, he'd nurtured the guilt to completion. Guilt can cloud your better judgements.

Clary slid her hand along his arms and stopped at his hands where she entwined her fingers with his and gave him a reassuring squeeze. Jace finally looked up at her only to check her expression, then looked away again. He squeezed back.

* * *

**There it is, that's what happened. Did you expect it? Was it what you imagined? I'm especially excited to hear what you think. ****Let me hear it in the reviews! **

**Disclaimer: TMI belongs to Cassandra Clare. Come on now, you know this.**


	18. The Odd One Out

**Oh my God, you guys. I've missed you. And WOW. 100 favs? Thank you! **

**I know it's been aaaages. Some of you have probably already forgotten how the story went. But thank you for still being here. It means a lot.**

* * *

Chapter 18: The Odd One Out

Fabrics rustling, hangers clanking, shoes thumping and heavy sighing. Clary had been in her walk-in closet for almost an hour now, trying to decide what to wear. She tried matching a silky dress to red shoes and a blazer to a chiffon blouse and twisted and turned, looking at herself in the mirror but nothing looked right. She figured she was out of practice since going to a school with uniforms. She finally threw herself on her bed, on top of the dozens of clothing items–face first. As her eyes were closed, she saw an image playing behind her lids. Something pink–no champagne–it was silk and layered above it was lace and it had a high neckline, it was simple in an elegant way. There was a ding. Clary had actually thought it came from her spark of idea and could almost believe she'd see a lightbulb above her head, but it was just her phone. A text from her mother.

_Let the servers and caterers in please, Clary._

After doing so, she went back into her closet. _I know it's here somewhere. _She dragged hanger by hanger to the side, looking for champagne. She turned and looked at the other wall. She knew she hadn't thrown it away. The dress had come to her apartment one day, less than a year ago. It had no sender's address, no return address, nothing. Just a clearly written note sent to her apartment and to her, specifically. It wasn't from Jocelyn or Luke or especially not Simon, he didn't have such refined taste in fashion and certainly not in women's clothing. And her Mom and Luke would've said something.

After more rummaging, she finally found it. The soft fabric grazed her skin.

xxXxx

Soft piano music danced in the atmosphere. It smelled like Thanksgiving. And Thanksgiving, to Clary, smelled like cinnamon.

Clary walked among the artist-guests, most of them in lovely evening dresses and the men in perfectly pressed suits and some of the bold clad in leather. Clary shook hands, smiled at new faces and exchanged pleasantries with the familiar ones. It was the same affair every year. The too wide, too bright, fake smiles they give each other, the same boasting about how they've been featured at the gallery at so-and-so street and how their painting auctioned at a 5-figure sum. Clary thought about why her Mom was even in this circle? Art wasn't supposed to be a competition, it's supposed to be a gift to the world. Usually there would be Simon here to accompany her and they would guess–or rather make up–the guests' life story. But he said his family's Thanksgiving dinner would be longer this year as some relatives were going to join them.

It was approaching 9.30 pm and Clary was trying to get to Jocelyn but she was surrounded. The Lightwoods' had invited her to _their_ Thanksgiving party. A card had been sent to her apartment, looking all fancy and official. Clary had told her Mom about it and she'd agreed. But the problem was she couldn't get to her at the moment to let her know she was leaving. _Oh, forget it_, Clary thought and made her way to the doorway. She hoped to God her mother remembered and wouldn't send the SWAT team to go looking for her later.

xxXxx

There was a doorman. He took Clary's coat from her and directed her to the Lightwood siblings. "On your left into the kitchen," he'd said in his old-man gravelly voice.

In the kitchen, Isabelle was perched on a barstool with a little boy on her lap and was talking to him. Alec was leaning against the wall, texting. And Jace was sitting on the countertop cross-legged, staring at an empty microwave. They looked like they were from a Marc Jacobs ad–sans the kitchen scenery.

When they heard her, everyone beamed like they were starving and she came bearing pizza boxes.

"Fashionably late much?" Jace said.

"I had my own party to attend to," Clary said.

Everyone ignored this and Jace ushered her towards the back door.

Behind her, Clary could hear Isabelle saying to Max, "Don't tell anyone, Maxey."

And she heard a whiney reply but couldn't make out what it was. There was a few more exchanges between them but Clary was already outside.

"Are you kicking me out?" Clary asked.

"No, Clary. We're leaving," he answered.

"But I just got here."

He waved a hand in the air. Shrugging on a leather jacket, "Not much different from your party anyway. A lot of ass-kissing, a lot of humble bragging." He zipped up his jacket. "I can't remember the last time any celebration being about family anymore."

xxXxx

They waited at a curb in front of some random person's house after climbing over the hedges behind the Lightwoods' house.

The headlights of an approaching black sedan shone at Clary's eyes and the car stopped in front of them.

"Cute car," Jace said as they climbed into the back seat, Alec in the front.

"Shut up," Magnus grumbled.

They were headed to a club in Brooklyn, apparently.

When they got out of the car, Simon was standing by a trash can. Izzy waved at him.

As Clary got closer to him, she saw the fear in his eyes. Clary gave him the look that said, _Couldn't get out of family dinner, huh? _Simon opened his mouth to say something but was cut off when Izzy gave him a hug.

"Glad you could find the place," Izzy said to Simon.

xxXxx

The bouncer asked for their name.

"Benjamin Franklin," Magnus said, handing him a wad of cash discreetly.

The bouncer crossed his arms, looking at Magnus through slitted eyes.

Magnus scoffed soundly. He produced a fatter wad of cash.

Clary saw surprise on the bouncer's face and a toothy grin. He stepped aside and let them pass.

"Is this party really worth a thousand dollars?" Alec asked annoyedly.

"No basement club party is worth a thousand dollar," Jace said.

They were walking in a dark, too narrow hallway. The sound of club music made the walls beat. "Guys, this is the shit. Trust me, a stripper told me so," Magnus said.

"A stripper?" Alec choked.

"We met at meditation class."

Jace gave him a funny look.

The music was deafening. It felt like it came from the outside _and_ inside of her brain. Clary saw clothes that glowed and glitter lashes and eyes with sclera lenses. Disco lights above them flashed like a nervous heartbeat.

"Well, _we_ certainly fit in," Jace said above the music.

"Let's get a drink," Magnus said.

Everyone ordered alcohol. Simon was trying to apologise to Clary.

"You'd sneak out for Izzy but not for me?" she asked him.

"Yeah. I mean, no!" he said when he saw Clary face of rage. "No, that's not what I meant!"

"Forget it, Simon," Clary said. And as she turned her back on him, she saw Jace and Alec being uncharacteristically stiff next to Magnus. They were all looking at something. She followed their line of gaze. No, _someone_. They were looking at _someone_.

She and Izzy approached them. Izzy had noticed too.

Izzy spoke first. "What are you guys looking at?" she asked cheerfully, slapping Alec's arm a little too hard.

"Nothing," Jace said, turning to face the bar.

Izzy whirled to where they were staring and put her fingertips to her gaped mouth. She gasped dramatically. "Is that Jonathan Morgenstern I see?"

Alec's eyebrows pulled together–as if he knew what she were going to do next.

"He was that hottie that kicked all of your asses wasn't he?" she asked, her hands making shapes in the air. "Circle Academy right? No?" she asked again when no one answered. "Doesn't ring a bell? Well then, I'm going to find out."

"Izzy–" Alec called. But she was fast and was already halfway to Jonathan.

They all watched in silence as Izzy charmed Jonathan–throwing her head back, laughing and touching his arm. And he was smiling at her.

When she returned, there was a frown on her face.

"What did he say?" Alec asked–there was a protective edge to his voice.

"Nothing," Izzy slurred. "He didn't want to give me his number."

"You asked for his number?" Simon asked, almost angrily Clary noticed.

Magnus laughed.

"What?" She narrowed her eyes at Magnus. "I bet you couldn't get his number either," she dared. She knew Magnus wouldn't. He had Alec.

"I bet I could," Clary said suddenly. She had no idea where that came from. Maybe the alcohol. She could certainly feel a tiny buzz.

"Clary," Jace breathed like he'd been punched in the gut.

And before she knew it, she was making her way to Jonathan walking past a shocked but impressed Izzy.

She was right behind Jonathan now. Weird. She didn't feel nervous. She thought she should be, she wasn't the direct type. She actually felt really, really calm. Like she'd been talking to him her whole life. Clary summed it up to be the fact that she had Jace.

She tapped Jonathan on the shoulder. She mentally face-palmed herself. _A tap? Really? _

He whirled around. "Hey."

"Hi," Clary said. He continued to stare at her face. He must be thinking what on earth does this random girl want from him? And why do random girl after random girl keep bothering him? Clary was trying to remember how the girls in movies did it. Hair twirling, one hand on the hip.

But instead she said, "So my friend, whom you just met a second ago, thinks I can't get your number." Clary's eyes flicked to Izzy when she said 'my friend'. "Help me prove her wrong?"

He looked at her. He was thinking. Finally, he looked at her gang of friends. He laughed, his shoulders moving up and down. "Sure. Just tell your boyfriend not to kill me."

Clary's eyes travelled to Jace automatically who looked like he'd swallowed a rock–a volcanic rock. She gave Jonathan her phone and he saved his number on it.

When she reached her group, Izzy wasn't there for her to show off her victory. And neither was Simon for that matter. But Jace was and he no longer looked sour, just annoyed–like her had to do chore or something.

"I take it your rendezvous went marvellously," he said.

"It was a dare," Clary shrugged.

"You dared yourself to do it."

"So what if I did?"

Simon suddenly reappeared.

"Where's Isabelle?" Alec asked him, looking intoxicated. His cheeks looked rosy, like he was wearing blush.

"More importantly, what is that horrid shirt you are wearing?" Magnus asked.

"That," Simon pointed to a big splatter of brown on his white shirt, "is plum juice mixed with vodka. Izzy threw it on me and ran away."

"And you didn't go after her?" Alec bursted out. He was trying to jump on Simon, but his legs were unsteady.

"She was too fast!" Simon defended.

"Steady, Alexander," Magnus said, clutching at his waist. He sighed. "Right. I'm gonna get the Lightweights home. You lot," he pointed at Clary, Jace and Simon. "can hail a cab."

"What did you call me?" Alec squinted at Magnus as he half dragged, half carried him away.

"Jeez, Simon. What did you say to Izzy?" Clary asked.

"I got angry at her for talking to another guy when we were already dat–" he cut himself short.

"You didn't tell me?" "She didn't tell me?" Clary and Jace yelled, Clary at Simon and Jace at the disco ball above.

"Hey, I was going to. I wanted to," Simon said. "I wanted to tell everyone. But Izzy didn't want that."

"Yeah, I can see why," Jace said, sizing him up. "I'm actually not mad at her anymore. I sympathise her now, actually."

"Hey, listen here, Wayland," Simon began.

"How long?" Clary asked.

"Just recently, actually," Simon said sheepishly.

"Meliorn really lowered her standards," Jace muttered.

"Why did she want to keep it a secret?" Clary asked Simon.

Simon glanced at Jace. "Well, she said–I mean–," Simon looked uncomfortable. "Since you and Alec were keeping a secret. She said she wanted to keep a secret too."

Jace scrunched up his face. "What kind of middle school logic is that?"

Simon shrugged. "She was frustrated, I guess."

"I guess she really wants to know," Clary said, looking at Jace hopefully. Izzy shouldn't be the only one out of it–well, and Simon too.

Jace frowned at Clary, understanding what she wanted him to do.

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**Disclaimer: The Mortal Instruments belongs to Cassandra Clare.**


	19. New Friend

**Oops, I did it again. Where are you now? Is it too late now to say I'm sorry? **

**Heh, I was talking in lyrics. Did you catch that? I bet you did, you're so smart. And cute too. And funny. **

* * *

Chapter 19: New Friend

_What did one cell say to his sister cell that stepped on his toe?_

Clary didn't bother to wait for Simon to reply before she texted again.

_Mitosis._

Clary laughed silently to herself, eyeing the old lady who'd glared at her when she'd laughed loudly at funny things on her phone. She was at the dental's office, waiting for her Mom to be done. She'd been bored. For moments, Simon hadn't text back. She checked back to see if she'd texted the wrong person. Sure enough, she texted the wrong person. _Oh God_, Clary groaned.

She'd texted Jonathan Morgenstern. She still had his number from that night.

There was no way to take back a sent text, Clary knew that. She was about to tell him it was a mistake when he replied.

_That was beautiful._

Clary smiled to herself. They could be real good friends.

xxXxx

Clary was texting Jonathan–sending funny puns back and forth–the whole while her mother was in the dental's, until finally Jocelyn was done and she almost didn't notice her mother heading out the door.

"Clary, let's go," her mother called. She'd almost forgot about Clary too. She was talking on her phone.

Trudging down the stairs, mother and daughter were preoccupied–Clary focused on her phone while her mother was having a heated discussion over the phone.

Jocelyn walked ahead of her. Clary was texting and walking behind. She was suddenly grabbed and stopped by both arms. Startled, she looked up to see Jonathan's smiling face.

Clary beamed out of surprise. "Jonathan!"

He let go of her arms. "Clary!" he matched her tone.

"What are you doing here?"

"I work at Java Jones down the street," he said, pointing behind Clary's head. "Wanna go sit down for hot chocolate? There's usually not many people around this time, so my boss won't mind me sitting down to chat."

"Okay," Clary said. Hot chocolate did sound good. She was cold.

Clary saw her Mom pacing in front of a store, still talking on her phone. She rushed towards her. "Mom," she called, touching her arm to get her attention.

"Yeah, one second," she said to her phone and held it away from her face. Looking slightly annoyed, she looked at Clary. "What? What is it?"

"I'm gonna go to Java Jones down the street for a while, okay? I'll get home by myself."

"Yeah, okay," Jocelyn said and went back to her call.

Clary skipped back to Jonathan. "Let's go."

xxXxx

When they got to Java Jones, the smell of coffee beans greeted them and Clary took a deep breath through her nose. She loves the smell of coffee, but the taste, not so much.

"Pick any seat," Jonathan said and moved on to go behind the counter. There was only one other barista.

Jonathan was right. It was a slow evening, barely any patrons–only a couple at one corner, a man ordering his drink and of course, there's Clary. Everyone else must be on holiday.

Jonathan came back with two cups of steaming hot chocolate. He took the seat across Clary.

"Thanks," she said, warming her palms against the cup.

"So, do you live around here?" he asked.

"No," Clary said, taking a careful sip. "Manhattan."

Jonathan gave a low whistle and raised his eyebrows.

She smiled. She knew he was only joking. He already knows she goes to Idris and everyone knows what kind of school Idris is.

"How about you?" Clary asked.

"Yup," he said. "Brooklyn born and raised." He continued, "We live in Renwick's Hill."

Clary nodded. "Who are 'we'?"

"Just me and my mom."

"Oh. It's just me and my mom too," Clary said, empathising. "But we have Luke and he's like a dad to me. Like a really cool dad."

"That's nice," Jonathan smiled, looking like he genuinely meant it.

They talked some more, about their childhood and found out they both shared their love for New York.

"Do you think you'll go to NYU?" Jonathan asked.

"I don't know."

"Where are you thinking about going?" he asked.

Clary shrugged.

"Haven't you given it a thought?"

"Honestly, I don't know what I'm going to do with my life," Clary said.

Jonathan laughed. "That's okay. You still have a year to think about it." And he only had a few more months of high school left. He must already have something in mind.

"Where are _you_ going?" she asked.

"I have a few options laid out," he said–not telling her what they are. "I'm trying to get a football scholarship, you see. I've already had scouts see me play." There was a 'but' implied at the end of the sentence. Clary wanted to ask but figured he'd tell her if he wanted to. He laughed a little, "School is expensive, you know. And I don't want my mom to have to worry about it. I do what I can." He seemed regretful.

Clary nodded. She didn't know what to say. She never had to think about money. It made her feel bad, somehow.

There was silence for a while, before Jonathan said, "Anyway, I'm sure you'll figure out what you want to do."

"Thanks," she said.

xxXxx

It was almost 7 p.m. when they walked out Java Jones to go home. Jonathan offered to walk Clary to the subway station.

They strolled past an art shop that had a few abstract paintings displayed behind the windows. Clary had never done abstract before, always realism. Her eyes lit up at how much freedom there was in the abstract paintings.

"You into art?" Jonathan asked.

Clary nodded.

"Do you draw?"

"Yeah."

"Are you any good at it?"

Clary shrugged. "I'm alright."

He smiled lopsidedly, like he knew she was better than she let on.

At the subway station, Clary was about to give her parting words. But Jonathan stuck around and said, "I should probably walk with you to Manhattan. Just to make sure you get home safe." He looked concerned.

"Oh. Okay," Clary said.

xxXxx

They got off the train and walked up the stairs together to be met with chilly nighttime air. Somewhere along their journey, Jonathan had told Clary he wanted to study Criminology.

"Criminology?" she repeated. "Where did that come from?"

"I don't know. Comic books?" Jonathan shrugged and smiled sheepishly. "I've always loved super heroes and their indomitable devotion to justice." He laughed long and hard. "Corny, isn't it?"

"No," Clary said and she was being honest. "I think that's amazing. We need more people like that."

He smiled and then, his face morphed into one of pain. And he gripped the side of his head.

"Are you okay?" Clary's forehead creased. "Jonathan?"

He tilted his head towards the sky with his eyes shut tight. "Yeah," he said. "I'm okay."

"Maybe we should get you to the hospital."

"No! No hospitals. Ugh, they give me the chills," he opened his eyes, letting his arms fall to his sides again. Blinking rapidly, he said, "It's just a little headache. Don't worry about it." And then his body fell to the ground.

"Jonathan!" Clary shrieked. She cradled his head, slapping the sides of his face to wake him up. He didn't budge. Since he clearly had a fear for hospitals, Clary called the only other person she could think of–Jace. His house and the Lightwoods' were nearby.

xxXxx

Jace arrived faster than Clary had expected. He bolted out the driver's side and approached Clary.

"Clary," he breathed. "What's wrong? I got your text. Wha–" Jace stopped dead in his tracks. Looking horrified, "What is _he_ doing in your lap?"

"He fainted, Jace. Help me, quick."

Jace stooped to pick Jonathan up by the shoulders. He hauled Jonathan to his car easily, considering Jonathan's built. "Well, would you look at that?" Jace said. "I drive a two-seater. I wonder where this guy is gonna fit?" Jace tilted his head towards the unconscious Jonathan. Knowing Jace, Clary had an inkling of idea where Jace was going to store him.

"He'll just have to share the passenger seat with me."

Jace's eyes widened. "He'll share with me." He fished his keys from his pockets and handed them to Clary. "You drive."

The car drove like a dream, Clary thought to herself. It felt like they weren't moving at all even though she was driving fast. While busy admiring the car, beside her, Jace was grunting every half second trying to get comfortable with Jonathan in his lap. He had the seat pushed as far back as it would go. He finally gave up and just leaned back in an awkward position.

"How did you find this guy anyway?" He eyed her suspiciously.

"Oh, I bumped into him in Brooklyn," Clary told Jace. "We went for hot chocolate."

Jace made a face, which Clary found cute. "Not six months into our relationship, already committing infidelity, I see–openly too. No need to spare my feelings."

"Jace," Clary rolled her eyes. "You know that's not what it is."

Jace blew out a breath and sank deeper into his seat.

xxXxx

When Jace carried Jonathan to his living room, the whole squad was there.

"Whoa, Jace," Magnus shot up. "First time's an accident, second time is a choice."

Jace grumbled. "I didn't hit him again. Clary found him fainted near the station." He set Jonathan down on the couch.

Magnus moved to hover over his face. "Huh," he said. "He is as pretty asleep as he is awake."

"He's not asleep, he's unconscious," Clary said, going to Jonathan's side. "We need to help him."

"I'll get some water," Alec said.

Clary saw Simon holding Izzy's hand as they watched Jonathan from the side of the room. Guess they're back together again.

Alec came back with water and Clary fed it to Jonathan. She waited a while. "He's not waking up." She started to panic.

Magnus moved to take Clary's place. He touched Jonathan's forehead. Suddenly, Jonathan stirred awake. Magnus pulled away and smiled. "There he is."

Jonathan shook his head. "Uh, what's going on? Clary?"

"You're at Jace's house," Clary said. "You passed out."

"Jace's house? Wha–"

Simon spoke up, "Any friend of Clary's is a friend of ours."

Jonathan gave a half smile. "Do I have a say in that?"

"Well," Simon started to say.

"Listen," Jonathan said. "As much as I'd love to," he looked around. "..do whatever it is you guys always do together, I've gotta go. My mom's going to be worried." He gave everyone a parting look as goodbye. To Clary, he said, "See you again."

Jace frowned at that.

Jonathan gave Jace's arm a pat as he passed him on the way out.

* * *

**Ha. You guys thought Jonathan lived with Valentine. He doesn't. Or does he? Guess you'll just have to find out.**

** Give me them reviews, homie. Aight? Aight. Peace out. xx**

**Disclaimer: The Mortal Instruments belongs to Cassandra Clare. Come on now, you know this.**


	20. Bad Hair Day

**Always nice to wake up to notifications from you guys. And thanks, everyone who reviewed! **

**I'd like to say that Clary and Jonathan wouldn't know they're siblings until much later. Sorry if this upsets you. I mean, you and I already know anyway, so. And if there seem to be attraction between them, I mean it to be _purely_ platonic.**

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Chapter 20: Bad Hair Day

_Time flies when you're having fun. _This phrase couldn't be more relatable to Clary at the moment. Yesterday was officially the last day of Thanksgiving break and right now Clary was walking down the stairs in her dorm, on her way to Calculus.

When she was out, she felt the chilly air hit her face. It was colder here than in New York. Because of all the greens, no doubt.

She saw Magnus walking past and called out.

As Clary approached him, he produced his phone from his pocket. He turn the back camera towards Clary.

Grinning, Magnus said, "You look cute."

They had different uniforms for the cold. Blazers were replaced with sweaters–worn over the shirt with the shirt collar out. The girls also wore black tights to go with the skirts.

"How was your break?" Clary asked.

"Oh, good. Great," Magnus said. "I sent in early admission applications."

"Oh. Good for you. What about Alec?"

"Yeah, Alec too."

"You guys applying to the same college?"

"We applied to one similar college. And the rest are different places," Magnus replied. "We'll see where fate brings us."

"I didn't know you believed in fate," Clary bumped Magnus on his side.

"Well, when you're desperate, you need all the hope you can get."

xxXxx

Clary had free period and so did Jace, so Clary proposed they go to the library to study Chemistry–which Jace was none-too-happy about but complied anyway.

They took their place at a corner table on the second level of the library and that area was completely devoid of students, who mostly preferred to sit downstairs near the resources they needed. Upstairs, was reserved mostly for further reading materials.

Clary was actually studying–writing ionic equations and answering chemical equilibria shift questions. Jace had his arm over Clary's chair and was playing with her hair, curling them around his pencil. Unfazed, Clary concentrated on her work.

Unsettled at being ignored, Jace pulled her chair closer. "_Clary_," he said. "Pay attention to me."

"_Jace_. I'm trying to study," Clary said back in a hushed voice.

Jace groaned.

"You agreed to come study with me," she reminded him.

"I agreed to spend time with you," Jace said. "Not with _Chemistry_."

Clary smiled. "Well, too bad."

Jace wrapped his arms around her waist. "We could be doing something much more fun, you know," he said in a low voice.

Clary flipped open his book. "Do these questions for the next 40 minutes," she said. "Then, I'll let you kiss me when you finish." She gave him a quick kiss as a preview. "And no cheating," she gathered her papers close to her side.

"Deal." He grinned, getting to work.

As they were quietly working on their practice questions, Jace's elbow would bump Clary's occasionally.

He glanced at her by the corner of his eye. "Sorry," he whispered. "Left- handed problems."

Clary had one more question left when Jace said, "Done." She circled her last answer.

Narrowing her eyes at Jace, she reached for his papers and asked, "Should I check them?

Leaning back in his chair, he said, "Be my guest, baby."

Clary checked Jace's answers and found he got only one wrong. Impressed, she showed him his score.

But Jace wasn't looking at the paper, he was looking at her. Jace leaned towards her and she met him halfway, kissing him first.

xxXxx

"_It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife_," Mr. Starkweather quoted. "Who can tell me where this line is from?"

"Pride and Prejudice," Clary answered.

"Correct," Mr. Starkweather beamed. He went to tell the class how Jane Austen discussed the issues of morality, education and marriage in landed gentry.

He proceeded to ask the class where the Bennet family lived. When there was no answer–not even from Camille who was usually eager to play teacher's pet–he said, "Clary?"

"Um, Longbourn?" she answered.

"Yes. Yes," he said. "Good to know one of you did your reading over the break." He then droned on about the content while writing on the board at which point, the class had lost interest–mostly were asleep, Jace and Simon included.

Camille rolled her eyes. Then, said something to the kids sitting behind her. They all laughed, looking at Clary. This wasn't caught by Mr. Starkweather since he was busy talking to himself.

It was caught by Izzy, however. She frowned and said to Camille, just loud enough that Camille could hear, "Mind saying that again?"

"I do mind actually, darling," Camille replied. "I don't offer reruns." She smiled–not kindly–at Izzy.

"Oh, come on, Camille. Don't be coy," Izzy prodded, mirroring her smile. "We all know all too well that you do do 'reruns'."

Getting up, Camille started to say, "Go to hell, Isabelle. You're no saint yourself, you little–"

"I've been there. And guess what? The devil sends his regards."

"Izzy, calm d–," Clary said, realising they were talking louder and louder.

At that exact moment, Mr. Starkweather decided it was good timing to turn around and so only caught Clary and Camille talking. "Miss Fairchild and Miss Belcourt," he shook his head. "I expected better from the two of you." Camille started to defend herself and Izzy, Clary but he dismissed them both. He produced detention slips and scribbled something. "You'll find yourself helping out building the play set after school." He handed Clary and Camille their detention slips.

xxXxx

The play was going to be a 'Peterpan' play. They were working on Wendy's room. A few kids were already there working on the striped pink wall. And a few partially constructed beds were lying around. Looking up, there were cords strung around used for flying the actors.

A tall girl with big, round glasses assigned work for Clary and Camille. "Which one of you have steady hands?" she asked.

Camille was checking her nails, not paying attention.

"Me, I guess," Clary said.

"Okay then. You can help with the wall," she said to Clary. To Camille, she said, "You paint the bed frames," handing her a can of brown paint.

Izzy had apologised profusely after Clary got detention. She even wanted to talk to Mr. Starkweather so she could go to detention instead of Clary, since it was her fault anyway. But Clary insisted it was okay, that Izzy didn't need anymore bad records. Izzy said okay but she wasn't at all happy about the decision. So, here Clary was and Izzy wasn't.

Painting the wall did need a steady hand since it had stripes. Clary was concentrating so hard.

Suddenly, Camille let out an ear-piercing laugh, startling Clary and she messed up the line a little. Turning to see, she found that Camille was talking to a group of people–about her–by the looks of it, by the way she was eyeing Clary openly. Clary was sure Camille wanted her to know she was. _What was her problem?_

_Oh well, _Clary thought. _Attention-seekers' gonna seek_. So, Clary just ignored her and carried on with her task.

Clary heard more chattering and more obnoxious laughters.

"Hey, you're really good at that," the boy next to her said.

Clary looked at him–he had freckles on his nose and the apples of his cheeks. She smiled. "Thanks."

"Are you an artist or something?"

"I don't know about artist," Clary dipped her brush into the can, getting more paint. "But I draw."

"How do you stay within the line?" he asked.

"Stay focused on the movement of your fingers instead of your arm."

Clary was showing him how to position his hand when she felt something hit her back.

There was a collective gasp. Upon turning around, she saw Camille with a paintbrush in hand.

"Oh, shit," the boy with freckles said. "You, uh. Um, it was paint. It's all over your clothes."

Rushing to get up, Clary went to a mirror and saw that the paint wasn't only on her sweater but they were all over her hair as well.

"_Mon cher_," the drama teacher gasped.

Clary turned around, blinking her watery eyes.

"Madame, I'm sorry," a blond boy who had an accent said to the teacher. "Me and Camille, we were playing around and you know, Camille, she's very illustrative, so she was waving her brush around and the paint splattered on this poor girl." He gestured at Clary. "It was an accident."

Camille, putting on her best act said, "Yes, Madame. Alexei is right. I didn't mean to ruin Clary's clothes."

"And my hair!" Clary bursted out. "What am I supposed to do with my hair?"

Camille continued to look upset by what happened. Clary knew she was gloating on the inside. She didn't know why Camille wasn't in the play. She's a good actor.

"You did it on purpose!" Clary leaped at Camille. "Don't act like–"

Madame got in between them. "Clary," she said softly in thick accent. "I'm sure we can come up with something agreeable. You are upset. I shall dismiss you right now, _oui_? You may go back to your room." Looking at Camille and Alexei, she said sternly, "You two, come with me now."

xxXxx

Clary had shampooed a third time–scrubbing and rinsing like mad–the paint just wouldn't come off her hair. A few strands had fallen from her rough ministrations.

She let out a scream. She was so frustrated.

Damn Camille. She just couldn't understand why Camille insists on being horrible. It was like it's her nature.

Looking at her reflection, Clary saw a pair of teary eyes looking back at her and tear-stained cheeks and reddish nose. Wiping her cheeks, she opened the medicine cabinet.

She reached for the scissors.

* * *

**Hope you guys are enjoying reading as much as I enjoy writing these. ****About my updating issues, I'm trying alright? xx**

**Disclaimer: The Mortal Instruments belongs to Cassandra Clare. Come on now, you know this.**


	21. The Plan

Chapter 21: The Plan

When she walked into the cafeteria the next morning, she didn't think much of it. Sure, it was a huge difference but not monumental, no. It freaked her out right after she did it but when she woke up this morning, she felt fine. Just fine. No crying, no screaming, no suppressed anger.

Clary picked up her food as usual but as she made her way through the lines, she noticed people staring at her. A few younger girls were whispering to each other, looking at her. She started to feel self-conscious. She tilted her chin up, making her way to her table.

A boy she passed by grinned lopsidedly at her. Not the I'm-laughing-at-you kind of grin but more of a flirty kind of grin.

"Nice hair," he saidas he walked away backwards.

A few football guys she knew through Jace high-fived her.

"New hair!" one of them said. "Right on, Clary!"

He went on to pick her up around the waist. Clary squealed. "Oh my God. Put me down! I'm gonna spill my milk!" Clary yelled, trying to balance the tray on her hands.

He laughed and eventually put her down.

When she made it to the table, Simon was openly gaping at her. Pretending she didn't see, she dug into her food.

Izzy sat down next to Simon and elbowed his side, snapping Simon out of his reverie.

"I know she's you best friend and all but I'm seriously dumping you if you look at her all gaga one more second," Izzy declared.

"I'm not," Simon said, averting his gaze. He returned it a second later. "It's just… Wow."

"Of course it's 'Wow'," Izzy said, smiling proudly. "I helped her."

Clary touched the shaved part of her head. It didn't feel rough as she initially expected. She was so devastated when she realised she had to chop off a great amount of hair. She had been growing them for years. But when Izzy came in, she stopped Clary right away and told her they needed to think about this first. Izzy took a good, long look at the situation. After much ministrations of Clary's hair–Izzy parted them, then lifted a handful, then dropped them, then tucked some behind Clary's ear. Eventually, Izzy said "Why not just shaved this part off?" She gathered less than half her head of hair on the left side. She pulled Clary's hair forward to show her. "See, most of the paint is here. There are some more on the ends of the rest of your hair. But you'll just need a little trim for those." After some time looking in the mirror with one side of her hair pulled tight against her scalp, Clary agreed.

"Clary, is that you?" Alec asked as he and Magnus took their seats. "You look…"

"Badass," Magnus finished.

"Gag," Izzy pointed at her tongue. "You two finishing each other's sentences now?"

Jace was the last to arrive. "Good morning," he greeted everyone as he pulled off his sweater, leaving him in his white shirt.

"You're gonna catch a cold, Jace," Alec reprimanded him.

"But I'm already too warm. I don't know how you got me into wearing them in the first place."

He stooped down to give Clary a kiss.

Clary turned and he paused mid-descent as he saw the other side of her head. Two seconds passed. A slow smile crept into his face. "I like it," he whispered, so only she could hear. And he continued with the kiss.

xxXxx

All day, Clary was showered with attention about her new hair much to Camille's annoyance. Which she was vocal about.

Camille slammed her locker door loudly. "I think she looks absolutely _atrocious_." She was talking to the Alexei guy from before, but was raising her voice way louder than was necessary. Alexei replied something back and Camille tossed her blonde head back and laughed. Clary rolled her eyes.

"Well, _I_ think you can totally rock this hairstyle, Clary," one girl said to Clary as she passed by. Clary recognised her from swim practice. Camille sneered at her. But the girl didn't take much notice.

Clary smiled at her as a thanks and she walked to class with Clary.

xxXxx

The rest of the week passed in a blur of boring classes, homework and swim practice. And before Clary knew it, it was Friday. They had a football game tonight. Versus the Circle Academy yet again.

Everyone was at the pool after school. Even Simon and Jace.

Jace was leaning against the pool wall with his eyes closed–enjoying himself, like he's in a hot tub. Clary was perched on the poolside next to him.

Izzy waded to one side so she can face everyone. "Okay, we need a plan."

Jace sighed blissfully and sunk himself deeper into the water–lip-level.

Alec and Magnus was off to another side of the pool, talking to each other about breathing techniques. Though, Alec was the only one taking the discussion seriously. Magnus occasionally just danced in the water, making it swirl around them.

Simon asked Izzy, "A plan for what?"

"For talking to Jonathan."

Jace shot up and choked on chlorine water. Alec and Magnus seized their conversation immediately.

"Why on earth would we do that?" Alec asked.

"To find out why he hasn't sued your dumb asses yet," she was referring to Alec and Jace. And also Sebastian, if he was here.

Everyone was silent.

"I mean obviously he survived the accident. But why hasn't he said anything? He's met you guys _three times_."

"What would he want to say to us, exactly?" Jace spoke up.

"Oh, I don't know," Izzy said. "Maybe something along the lines of '_Why the hell did you guys run me over?_'" She continued, "And don't you guys want to know why he just up and dusted? Or how he can even run away after just getting hit by a car _or_ how he has no pulse one minute and is gone with the wind the next?"

Izzy made a lot of sense, of course. These were real questions that needed answers. However, Clary understood why Alec and Jace were hesitant. Sometimes, answers can cause more damage than good.

After a while, Jace said, "Izzy's right."

Alec looked at him, wide-eyed. "_Jace_."

"We need to find out, Alec. I have to admit, it hasn't been sitting well with me. And if you're my brother and I still know you, I know it's been bothering you too. We haven't been the same since that night. Killing someone–thinking you killed someone, it changes a person."

Alec stared at Jace. Pursed his lips. Nodded.

"Okay," Izzy said carefully. "Here's what we do tonight."

xxXxx

By now, Clary already knew all the football positions. Jace was the wide receiver, Sebastian, the linebacker and Simon, kicker. Clary, Izzy, Magnus and Alec were huddled together on the good seats.

The commencement of the game was same old, same old. The announcer welcomed the opponents and then, Idris' team took the field with their cheerleaders welcoming them.

The tension was palpable as the game went on. Not only because of the game but also the plan–mostly because of the plan.

On the fourth-quarter, the scores were close. The announcer predicted a tie. It was a tie. They had overtime periods. Simon was up for penalty kicks. By which point, Clary wasn't really paying attention anymore because she was playing out their plan in her head. Over and over. But suddenly, the game ended.

They won. Idris won. Cheers and whistles and claps filled the stadium.

xxXxx

The plan was Clary, Jace, Alec and Sebastian were going to approach Jonathan after the game. Clary needed to be there because she was the closest to Jonathan compared to the rest of them. She was going to do all the talking to avoid any potential misunderstanding or unwarranted fights. In Izzy's words; Clary talk, everyone else STFU.

Jonathan was the last of his team to emerge out of the locker room.

"Jonathan!" Clary called. The four of them had been waiting under a low tree near the said locker room.

Jonathan's face slowly grew serious as he saw Jace, Alec and Sebastian.

There was an awkward silence where none of them knew what to say.

Sebastian held his hand out, trembling slightly. "Sebastian," he introduced himself.

Jonathan nodded once. "No last name?"

Sebastian gave a nervous laughter and joked, "Nope. Just Sebastian." He went on, "Like Beyoncé. Or Madonna." Realising he was talking too much, he bit his lip.

"Jonathan Morgenstern," Jonathan said, even though everyone already knew that.

"So, um," Clary said. "We need to talk to you about something."

"Okay..," Jonathan trailed.

"Do you recall anything from last summer?" Clary went straight to the point.

"What do you mean? What kind of thing?"

"Like I don't know. What's the first thing you think of when I say 'last summer'?"

Jonathan smiled, "Clary, I–" He suddenly straightened. Looked at Jace, then Alec, then Sebastian. "It wasn't you guys–was it?"

They looked at Jonathan with guarded expressions except Sebastian, who was popping his knuckles–not because he wanted to fight but because he was nervous.

Then, Jonathan said something that made everyone's stomach drop. "The car accident."

Dead silence.

In a low voice, Alec asked, "What happened to you?" _Alec, the plan._

Looking at Alec, unblinking, Jonathan said, "You tell me."

Jace said, "Why do you think we're asking you? We don't know." _There goes the plan._

Jonathan laughed, a dark, humourless laugh. "That's rich. You ran me over and now, you're demanding answers from me."

Alec wanted to say something but Jonathan was done. He turned away. Said to Clary, "I can't believe these are the kinds of people you're friends with." And left.

* * *

**Guys, I've always wanted to cut Clary's hair. I didn't plan to shave it, but Izzy thought it was a good idea.**

**Review! x**

**Disclaimer: The Mortal Instruments belongs to Cassandra Clare. Come on now, you know this.**


	22. Falcon

**Hi! How is everyone doing? x **

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Chapter 22: Falcon

Clary went after Jonathan, calling after him, but he was already well on his way out of the gate. It was during chases like this Clary wished she had longer legs. Deciding he was too far out of her reach now, Clary stopped. She was left standing near Lake Lyn, watching his retreating figure growing smaller and smaller as the distance between them got wider and wider.

Sighing heavily, she turned back around and came face-to-face to Jace's chest.

She looked up and frowned.

"We tried," Jace said, stroking her loose curls.

"_I_ tried," Clary said. Alec and Sebastian had caught up to them as well. Addressing all of them now, she said. "What happened to 'We swear on we won't say a word'?" she said in a deep voice in attempt to mimic them.

Alec spoke first. "My bad, Clary. I just–" He blew out a huge breath. "Shit, I don't know. It's all pretty messed up I guess."

Clary watched Alec sympathetically. He must think he holds all the responsibility, that it was all on him–being the eldest and all. But he didn't. It was all of them.

Putting up his hands in surrender, Sebastian said, "Hey, don't look at me. I was just introducing myself." His nerves from before had receded and he was back to his usual careless self. He pulled out a cigarette pack from his jeans pocket and a lighter from another. Lighted the cigarette. Took a a drag. "Did anyone else get a weird vibe from him?" No one answered. He went on, "Like he's been through shit, you know." He blew out a stream of smoke.

Jace fanned the air in front of his face. "Do you mind keeping cancer to yourself?"

Sebastian took another drag and exhaled.

Jace gave him a look. It looked like _Seriously, bro? _or was it _Try that again._

Sebastian scoffed. "Yeah, whatever." He flicked the cigarette to the ground, stepped on it with the heel of his shoes, then kicked it into the forest. "Guess you guys don't need me anymore. I'm out." And walked back the way he came from.

xxXxx

Everyone was gathered around Lake Lyn now for a post-execution meeting–Clary sat between Magnus and Alec, Jace sat way off on a huge rock and Izzy in the circle of Simon's arms.

They ran the story over for Izzy, Magnus and Simon. Twice. As Izzy requested.

After dissecting and analysing the situation and reminding Jace and Alec that they were idiots about ten times, Izzy said, "We need Plan B."

Quiet.

"_Seriously?_" she exclaimed. "Jonathan is the only one who knows what in the hell happened that night and he refuses to say. He has the upper hand right now. Who knows what he plans to do? We're on thin ice here."

Still nothing. Just the whistle of the breeze as it passed their broken circle.

"We need to ask him again." Izzy looked toward Clary. "Clary?"

"No." Jace hopped off his rock.

Izzy looked at him questioningly.

"Everyone stay out of this," Jace said. He was serious. "This is mine and Alec's problem."

"Jace, don't be an–"

"Shut up, Izzy."

"_You_ shut up, Jace!" Izzy yelled. "Are you crazy? Alec is my brother! _You're_ my brother! I can't just sit back and watch whatever's coming to you guys come."

"It's not like I don't deserve it." Jace said.

Alec said to him, "What do you mean, Jace?"

"It was me," Jace said. "I drove the car. I didn't see him. And I hit him. It's my fault."

Alec wasn't even surprised, like he'd heard this a million times. "It's not your fault, Jace. You'd been fighting. You were pumped up with adrenaline, it made you–"

"God, Alec," Jace breathed. "Stop." He was clearly frustrated, looking like he was ready to rip his hair off–not that he would actually do that to his precious hair.

Jace looked at Alec. Alec looked at Jace. For a long time.

And then, Alec got up and walked away. He passed Jace but didn't say anything to him, didn't even look at him.

xxXxx

Everyone split up after. Magnus said good night to Clary and Jace. And then, along with Izzy and Simon, left Lake Lyn. They headed towards the dorms.

Clary and Jace stayed behind. Clary stared at the lake. On the surface, reflected the moon, bright and beautiful with all its imperfect craters.

Jace sat on the soft grass near Clary, a little ahead of her so she couldn't see his face.

Clary reached out and touched his hair in the back. He sighed. Clary whispered. "You don't know want _me_ to stay out, do you?"

"Especially you, Clary."

Clary lifted her head. "_What? _Why?"

"I don't want you to get in trouble."

"Uh, I'm in this school. I'm already trouble."

"No, you're not. The fire was an accident."

"No, it wasn't," she bluffed.

"Really?" there was amusement in his voice.

"Yup."

"The day you and Simon burn down a house for your own amusement is the day I caress a duck for my own pleasure."

Clary laughed.

And then Jace said, "I'm a mess."

"You're not a mess."

"I'm a hot mess."

"You're my hot mess."

Clary saw the corner of his mouth lift.

xxXxx

It had been over a week since the day they talked to Jonathan. Clary had been texting him almost everyday, apologising for their attitude, telling him to please not be angry, asking him if he is still angry, telling him he's a jerk for not replying and then telling him she's sorry for calling him a jerk.

Coach Malachi was announcing that they were going to have a swimming competition amongst themselves next Friday night. He said it was nothing serious, just a friendly competition.

Izzy asked Clary, on their way out of the gymnasium, "No reply?"

Taking a final look at her phone screen, Clary tucked it into a pocket inside her duffle bag. She shook her head. She grabbed a bottle of water.

Their school mascot streamed between Izzy and Clary. Ducking, Clary tried not to get hit by it's–his–huge wings. She never could guess what their mascot was. Obviously it was some kind of a bird. But what kind? The costume basically just consisted of a pair of massive wings and the person wearing it was mostly visible and not completely engulfed by it, unlike how most mascot costumes worked. Izzy told her once that it wasn't a bird, it was an angel.

"It's wings are black," Clary commented.

"A _fallen_ angel."

Other kids told her it was a hawk.

"Do you think we should send him a fruit basket?" Izzy asked.

"Huh?"

"As an apology."

Clary gave Izzy a befuddled look.

"You have a better idea, Clary?" Izzy said haughtily. "I'm running a little dry here."

Clary sighed. She was dry too. And the fact that the chances of her seeing Jonathan again was pretty much nonexistent didn't help either. All the more easy for him to ignore her.

"Just keep texting him," Izzy said. "Tenacity hasn't failed me yet."

They were taking a shortcut, squeezing between bushes and shrubs. It made Clary's skin itch. They had to pass through an area that was all tall trees with dangly vines.

Izzy screamed.

Clary looked behind her.

Izzy was slicing the air with her hands. She had dropped her bag. Clary saw a couple of birds fly away from her.

After regaining her composure, Izzy picked up her Victoria's Secret duffle and started walking again.

"Scared of birds?" Clary wondered.

"I'm not _scared_." She adjusted her strap.

Clary nodded and smiled brightly at her.

"I'm _not_!" Izzy blew out a frustrated breath. "When we were kids, Jace had a falcon. Jace went all like 'Go ahead, pet him! He's friendly!'" she mimicked. "So I did. And the little demon lashed out at me, almost severed half my face!" Izzy shivered, her shoulders wiggling up and down. "I have PTSD now."

_Falcon_, Clary thought. That was their school mascot.

xxXxx

"You should keep your body straight," Jace said. He swam with his back in the water, all relaxed. "Enhances your speed."

Clary rolled her eyes. They'd been practicing for almost 3 hours now. Jace was really pushing her. She actually missed Coach.

"And keep your fingers closed."

Clary did one lap, correcting everything he'd pointed out, then stopped at the end of the pool. "I'm done," she said, panting.

"What? Already?" he asked. "Do you want to win or not?"

Clary hoisted herself out of the pool, water streaming down her body. "But I'm cold," she whined. Rubbing her hands over her upper arms to emphasise her point.

Jace stood in the water, arms akimbo.

She rushed to the bench and grabbed Jace's hoodie, slipping her arms through it. She rolled up the much too long arms until her hands made an appearance.

Not long later, Jace joined her. He shook water from his hair. Water sprayed everywhere.

"Jace!" Clary shrieked. She wiped her face with his hoodie sleeves.

Clary checked her phone and there was still no answer from Jonathan.

Jace peeked over. "Have you been texting Jonathan?"

"Yeah."

Jace groaned and looked at the pool. He was pouting.

"He hasn't texted back, anyway." Clary dumped her phone on their towels. She rested her head on Jace's shoulder. "Do you think it was because I called him a jerk?"

"You called him a jerk?" He sounded pleased.

"Yeah." Clary was actually getting tired of Jonathan's attitude. She'd been patient enough, playing his silent treatment game for days on end. At this point, it was just plain annoying. She lifted her head suddenly and reached for her phone again.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to give him a piece of my mind."

_Dear Jonathan, I see that you insist on sulking like a little child. Suit yourself. But contrary to the impression I might have given, I don't typically have that much time to be waiting on your long overdue reply like a girlfriend waiting on her deported boyfriend. So, if you want to salvage our friendship (I know I do), you'd better reply. ASAP. xoxo_

Thirty seconds later, her phone buzzed.

_Fine, let's talk._

* * *

**Yo, there's so many of you now. Quick question; is this story going too slow for you? Let me know.**

**Y'all, when I was writing the falcon mascot, I was thinking of Falcon, lol. Like Captain America's Falcon. Speaking of Cap, oh my God, did you guys hear about him and Hydra? Broke my heart. Smashed, shattered. I knew he was too good to be true.**

**Disclaimer: The Mortal Instruments belongs to Cassandra Clare. Obviously. Did you even read the books?**


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